


For Propriety's Sake

by krysnel_nicavis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Family Issues, M/M, Mpreg, Pre-Slash, Pregnant Percy Weasley, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Romance, Shame, Slash, Wordcount: Over 20.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one thing changes and throws your whole life off course and breaks you apart, you make a mosaic out of the pieces and hope no one wonders what it could have once been. Or, the one where Percy and Marcus make the best of a bad situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s Note 1:** I’ve been going through my old fics and found this idea that’s been sitting on my computer since 2010.
> 
>  **Author’s Note 2:** I’ve lately grown tired of using “Merlin” as a fallback replacement for the “God” in exclamations or emphasis (e.g.: “Oh God”/”Oh Merlin”) so I have decided to utilize more of the names of Ancient Greek deities and other individuals from Arthurian Legends. I’m still going to use “Merlin” but not for everything/by everyone. I’ve tried to place a summary of each deity/figure in the footnotes, apologies if I’ve missed one.

After Harry Potter’s third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite Peter Pettigrew (aka: Wormtail) escaping, Sirius decided against going on the run.  Instead, he convinced Dumbledore that the Order of the Phoenix (which they both know was going to need reforming) was in need a safe house and a base of operations. However, Sirius also pointed out that his ancestral home of Grimmauld Place was so decrepit after all these years of disuse that it was better off condemned.  After holding a secret meeting of the remaining Order from the last war against You-Know-Who, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley generously offered up use of their family home, the Burrow.

The plus side to this was that the Burrow got a magical overhaul.  It was heavily warded and put under the Fidelius Charm, and everyone pitched in their magic to ensure the home was structurally sound and secure.  Most of the rooms were turned into a sort of barracks, equipped with bunk beds.  Everyone was quite happy with the arrangements.

Well, _almost_ everyone.

Percy was less than thrilled with the whole thing.  For one, he was forced to give up his bedroom.  Well, not exactly forced, but he deemed it preferable as the lower bedrooms were to be used by temporary guests and being in an upper room would ensure he wasn’t as frequently disturbed by the people who would be going in and out at all hours due to various missions.  It was to be a safe house _and_ a headquarters after all, so he planned accordingly.  And so it was that he was now situated in Ron’s old room and had been for the past two years (He’d steadfastly refused to bunk in the twins’ old room. There was no telling _what_ they’d hidden away in there.).  Along with three bunk beds and, since the return of the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named the previous year, four semi-permanent roommates and the odd interloper who didn’t fit in the den.

He didn’t mind that Oliver Wood had claimed the top bunk of his bed, they’d roomed together for seven years at school so Percy was used to the other young man’s habits.  He also didn’t mind that his two older brothers called another of the three bunk beds their own when they’d arrived.  They’d never picked on him like their younger siblings so often did.  It was his fifth sometimes-roommate that caused some problems.

Everyone was convinced that Marcus Flint sometimes sharing his room bothered him because the man was a former Slytherin and from a Dark family.  This was untrue.  He had nothing against Slytherins in general, and Marcus had defected from the Dark Side and cut all ties with his family last July.

Everyone was also convinced the man just plain bothered him.  This was partially true.  What no one realized was that “bothered” was actually accompanied by “hot”.  He never voiced this.  Ever.  No one was _ever_ to know how he felt for the former Slytherin Quidditch Captain.

But, even in the beginning, Percy had never complained about the entire arrangement.  He didn’t really mind giving up his room.  For over a year he’d actually had the topmost room all to himself, with the exception of the few times Oliver had stayed over before becoming a more permanent fixture, and wasn’t even bothered by being so close to the attic where the ghoul still banged on the pipes when it got too quiet (that’s what silencing spells were for).  He wasn’t about to start complaining now.  The man might leave and choose not to come back.  So Percy chose to ignore him and stay away from him as much as possible during the day, and pretended he wasn’t listening to the sound of him breathing during the nights the older man stayed. … Maybe he was a masochist.


	2. Chapter 01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains a graphic depiction of rape.

Percy sighed as he dropped into a seat in the kitchen and removed his reading glasses.  His job was exhausting.  Not physically.  He really only did paperwork as the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.  He was emotionally drained.  The Minister, he’d long since realized, was a dunce.  He was completely oblivious to the realities of the situation with You-Know-Who and flatly refused to even consider the _possibility_ of the evil wizard’s return.  Being surrounded by the Order everyday had shaped his current beliefs and, unknown to everyone, altered the course of his personal life.  As it was, he was unsatisfied with his job, but Dumbledore insisted that his position in the Ministry offered vital intel.  Percy wasn’t so sure.

A goblet appeared in front of him as everyone settled in for dinner.  He took a gulp before filling his plate with his mother’s delicious beef stew.  He was almost unable to finish it, he was so sleepy.  He downed the rest of his drink before excusing himself.

He changed into his sleeping shirt as quickly as he was able before falling into bed.  The surrounding silence served to remind him that his roommates were all gone, either on missions or for their jobs.  Oliver was travelling with his Quidditch team for the next week; Charlie was on leave from the dragon preserve but had been called back for an emergency that morning; Bill and Marcus had been gone for a week as they were on a mission with Remus and not expected back for another two.

Percy sighed and pulled up his blankets, clutching the sleeves of his shirt.  A part of him felt pathetic.  The shirt had actually been from one of Marcus’ old Quidditch uniforms.  The man had been sorting through his clothing a few months after moving in and was going to just toss away the clothes that were too small.  Without thinking, Percy had asked a startled “but why?”.  When Marcus had raised an eyebrow he’d embarrassedly apologised and stuttered out an explanation of his family’s ingrained belief of handing serviceable clothing down to someone who still fit it.  He’d expected a scathing remark of some kind.  Instead, he’d gotten an “okay” and a pile of new, if used, clothing placed on his bunk.

He liked the old Quidditch jerseys.  They were soft and warm in the often drafty room and came down to just above his knees.  Oliver had raised an eyebrow the first time he’d seen Percy wear one.  Percy had shrugged and said “He was going to throw them away” before going to bed.  He sighed at the memories and burrowed into the bed on his side.  He was unsure how long he just lay there, dozing and strangely unable to fall completely asleep.  Unlike his waking mind, he was unable to pretend that he didn’t feel anything for the former Slytherin.  He cared for him.  Deeply.  He’d always been strangely attracted to the older boy but, until he’d started to actually get to know the man, he hadn’t realized why that was.

He sluggishly rolled onto his back and sighed, imagining what it would be like to be held in the man’s muscular embrace.  The former Slytherin had been built like a brick house back in school.  In the two years since he’d obviously _not_ let himself go at all.  From what Percy had observed, he’d filled out even more.  Percy imagined what it would be like running his hands along the muscles of the man’s strong shoulders and back.  Imagined what it would feel like to have the man’s hand on his skin…

Percy shivered.  He could clearly imagine it as the man’s hand gently caressed his bare thighs… roamed upwards, pushing the edges of the jersey above his hips… he could feel it... wait…

His eyes opened and he gasped.

“W-what?” a hand clamped down on his mouth, silencing a choked scream.  He tried to struggle but his fogged brain and sluggish body wouldn’t respond.  He couldn’t see anything in the darkened room, there wasn’t even a sliver of moonlight in the sky.  A heavy body lowered down on top of his.  He flinched when he felt their breath on his ear.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” the deep, almost deranged sounding voice hissed.  He knew that voice… He did.  But his addled mind couldn’t focus… he couldn’t place it, he couldn’t think.  The only thought he was capable of forming was _‘Please… no…’_

The stranger – the voice may be familiar but he still didn’t know who this was – pulled the jersey off him and tossed it viciously across the room leaving Percy completely bare.  Percy tried to protest again as he was roughly flipped onto his stomach. _“P-please…”_

The heavy body rested on top of him again, the moist, panting breath on his ear again. “It’ll be alright, Perce,” the voice promised. “Everything will be just fine.”

The weight left and Percy couldn’t stop the tears from escaping his eyes as he heard the sound of the stranger discarding his own clothing.  He choked back a sob as the stranger straddled him, the man’s hard cock resting against the center of his butt cheeks. _“Please…”_ he begged again, his eyes watering.  The stranger rocked against him in response, the hot member sliding a little deeper into the cleft of his ass.

He was unable to stop the choked sob from escaping when the voice whispered a spell and a finger intruded the tight ring of his now lubricated hole. _“Please… no…”_ he cried.  The stranger ignored him as he moved his finger in and out a couple times before forcing in a second.  Percy let out a pained yell, unready for the invasion.  In response the stranger struck him over the head with his free hand before forcing in a third digit.

 _“Quiet,”_ the voice hissed.

Percy bit down on the pillow under his cheek to muffle his cries as the stranger roughly pumped his fingers in and out of his still too tight entrance.  The hand suddenly withdrew and Percy registered another muttered spell.  He tried to move his sluggish body away from this man but the stranger roughly grabbed his hips and yanked him onto his knees.

 _“O-oh, Eleos please, don’t!”_ Percy managed to beg frantically, tears streaming down his face. _“Please.”_ [1]

The stranger lined the tip of his cock up with Percy’s inadequately prepared hole.  Percy let out a strangled sob and prayed… begged… _pleaded_ futilely to both Soter and Soteria in his head. [2] He screamed into his pillow as pain ripped through his entire body.  The man entered him with a single thrust, burying his cock up to the hilt.

 _“So tight,”_ the man breathed, groaning as he began pulling out and roughly thrusting back in.  As the stranger mercilessly fucked him Percy’s entire world became nothing but pain, not caring that he was sobbing continuously, just begging for it to end.  The room was filled with the sound of the bed springs squeaking, the stranger moaning, Percy’s muffled pain filled cries, and the stranger’s balls slapping against Percy’s skin.

Finally the stranger let out a low roar and collapsed onto Percy’s back.  Percy hardly registered the stranger pressing his lips to Percy’s back, murmuring something Percy couldn’t hear into his ear.  He let out a yelp when the man roughly pulled out of him.  He collapsed fully on the bed and didn’t move… didn’t listen as the man dressed and left… He shivered as the cool air surrounded his sweat drenched skin and didn’t care…

He pressed his face into his pillow and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Footnotes:**
> 
>  
> 
> [1] (Ancient Greek Personification Concept) Eleos – spirit of mercy, pity, and compassion.
> 
> [2] (Ancient Greek Personification Concepts) Soter - male spirit of safety, preservation, and deliverance from harm; Soteria - female spirit of safety, preservation, and deliverance from harm.


	3. Chapter 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy has nightmares.

He woke up shivering in the cool morning air.  His head was pounding with the worst hangover he’d ever felt and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.  Percy groaned and tried to roll over, shouting when pain shot through him.  He gasped and tried to breathe steady as the pain faded.

 _‘What in Tartarus happened to me?’_ His groggy brain was having a tough time piecing anything together. [3] He tried to move again, carefully this time he rolled onto his side, facing the room.  Groaning from the pain in his backside, stiff muscles shaking he took stock of his surroundings.  He noticed his sleeping jersey crumpled in a ball across the room. _‘How did that get all the way over there?’_

It was early August but Percy had a habit of getting chilly at night no matter how warm it was outside.  Besides, it had been a cold year.  He couldn’t fathom why he’d remove the thinner summer jersey.

He grit his teeth and managed to pull himself into a standing position, nearly falling a number of times. He summoned the garment to him and pulled it on, ignoring his aching muscles and gathered a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom.  His skin felt grimy so he readied the tub to bathe.  He took advantage of the healing potions stocked in the medicine cabinet, pouring one into the bathwater.  The sharp pains from his rear had him seriously questioning what the hell he’d been up to last night.  The last thing he really remembered was coming home after work.

He stepped into the tub and gingerly lowered his body into it, groaning as he lay back and allowed the potion to heal his battered body.  It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out to go to a pub and unwind after a stressful day, and he’d taken note of the bruises on his hips in the unmistakable shape of hand prints.  His lack of recall was worrisome though.  He’d never imbibed so much that he couldn’t remember anything before.

He sighed as the potion took effect, finally able to relax and sit comfortably.  He soaked in the tub and resolved to stay away from any and all alcohol for a while.  He didn’t want a repeat.  After his soak he showered to clean the sweat and potion residue from his skin and hair before getting ready for another boring day at work.

* * *

Percy bolted awake and shook off the hand that was on his shoulder, giving a startled yell.

“Whoa, calm down,” a rough voice spoke in the dim light of the moon filtering in through the sole window. “It’s okay, Perce. It’s just me.”

Percy gulped and took a few calming breaths.  He blinked his eyes and focused on the shape that was crouched next to his bed.  He was able to make out the look of concern on the older man’s face. “M-Marcus?” He’d forgotten the man had returned that evening.

“Yeah, it’s just me. You were having a nightmare,” Marcus said as he moved to sit beside Percy on the small bed.  He noticed the smaller boy shaking. “Hey, c’mere,” He gently wrapped his muscular arms around the once Gryffindor Head Boy and held him close. “It’s okay, Perce,” he said into the redhead’s hair as the man started silently crying. “I’ve got you.”

Percy clung to the larger man, unable to shake off the fear emanating from the nightmare he’d had.  He pressed into the embrace, suddenly desperate for the feeling of safety he found there, and clung to Marcus’ shirt. “ _Kahedin_ , that felt so real.” [4]

Marcus gently rubbed comforting circles on Percy’s back. “What was the nightmare about?”

Percy tensed and then shuddered, hiding his face in the crook of Marcus’ neck. “It was horrible,” his voice cracked.

“It’s fine,” Marcus assured softly, running a hand through the man’s hair. “You don’t have to tell me.” Percy shook again. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

* * *

Percy didn’t bring up the nightmare or Marcus comforting him afterwards again, and Marcus respected Percy’s silence on the matter.  Instead the tall, former Quidditch player kept a watchful eye on the man, who was obviously troubled by something, as often as he could.  This was made difficult when autumn took hold and Marcus found himself often on various missions for the Order.

The few times he was able to return to the Burrow over the next few months Percy had become drawn and kept to himself more than usual.  He still allowed Marcus to hold him at night, after everyone else was asleep, and clung to him almost desperately as Marcus did his best to reassure him that it, whatever it was, was going to be okay.

He never did explain what his nightmares were about.

– 30 –

End Chapter 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> [3] Tartarus – A deep abyss used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked and as the prison for the Titans. (Sort of the Ancient Greek version of Hell).
> 
> [4] Kahedin – Arthurian character; Brother to Iseult, son of King Hoel, had an affair with Brangaine; other names include: Kahadin, Kahedrin, Kehenis, Kehidius, and possibly Kae Hir… [I liked the way it sounded.]


	4. Chapter 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy gets sick.

Despite the horrid nightmares he was being plagued with, Percy’s life continued on as normal.  Every workday he got up, got dressed, went to the Ministry, and (occasionally) brought back a relevant piece if information.  Afterwards he’d come straight home, eat dinner, and hole up in his room for the rest of the day.  His mother seemed concerned about him spending so much time alone, but he assured her he was just tired from work.  She would smile in sad understanding, knowing full well he was dissatisfied with his position, and tell him not to work himself so hard.

Thing was, he wasn’t even lying when he said he was tired.  Lately, he’d been feeling more exhausted than normal.  And not just emotionally, but physically as well and he couldn’t think of anything that would account for it.  Often he found himself falling asleep much earlier than was usual… and more often than he wished he woke in the middle of the night in a panic.

It was always the same.

The nightmares.

A dark figure on top of him… striking him… fucking him, brutally… him powerless to stop it… and the litany in his head, a constant stream of pleading and begging it to end.  Sometimes even begging for death.

It disturbed him.  It wasn’t constant, dreaming of being raped.  But once was too much for his liking.

And it felt incredibly _real_.  When he woke he could feel the ghost of hands on his body.  The echoes of feeling like he was being torn in half… He recalled that morning he’d woken up without any memory of the night before and, sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder.  Then he’d shake his head and dismiss the thought.

Roughly four weeks after that odd morning, in mid-September, Percy went about his morning routine as usual when he was struck with an intense nausea.   He was getting ready for his morning shower when he dove for the toilet and violently emptied out the entire contents of his stomach.  He leaned his head on the edge and tried to fight the wave of dizziness that settled over him.  He remained still until he was sure his stomach had settled and finished getting ready for the day.  After his shower he felt much better and dismissed his earlier nausea as nothing serious.

At least, until the next morning when it happened all over again.  And the following morning.  And the morning after that, and the one after that.  After the sixth morning of him heaving up everything but his actual stomach lining he stopped brushing it off.

Percy Weasley was officially ill.

After his morning shower he took a dose of a mild anti-nausea potion, despite not usually feeling sick after the first time in the morning, and went to owl-in sick before going back to bed.  He calmed his mother’s concerns by saying it was just a small flu and was sure it would be gone in a few days.

It wasn’t.

He flashed back to the health class they were required to take back in third year and, one evening when his roommates were all either away or busy, dug through his belongings to locate the unabridged copy of the textbook he’d purchased for himself not long after graduating.  Feeling both inevitability and denial, Percy flipped to a section he’d only glossed over before: Pregnancy.

While pregnancy in both males and females were remarkably similar (i.e. they had identical gestation periods and expected foetal development rates), they also had some glaring differences.  All these differences were linked to the fact that males didn’t have the necessary hormones to stabilize the pregnancy.  Instead, their innate magic took over to compensate and so they tended to experience a number of symptoms much more harshly.  For example, morning sickness tended to abate completely in females after the first twelve weeks, rarely extending to the full pregnancy.  In males, however, it lasted the full 40 weeks, though after the first fifteen it did tend to settle down and not occur every day.

Percy scanned the pages until he found what he was looking for.  He scanned through the small list of pregnancy-indicator spells and potions and decided on the simplest one.  The one that gave either a positive or a negative response.  He memorized the incantation and took a few deep, calming breaths.  According to the book, there would either be a purple or green glow emanating from his stomach area.  Green was negative, purple was positive…  He double checked this to make sure.

He knew he should cast the spell quickly before he lost his nerve.  But he was nervous.  If it came out positive he would be ruined.  He’d lose his job and, likely, his family as well.  The Ministry would never retain an employee who had been compromised in such a way and shamed themselves and their Family.  He’d be disgraced and his fatherless child would always be out of favour with his peers for being the bastard child of a whore.

He scoffed at himself.  He was being ridiculous.

He wasn’t even sure why he was so nervous, it’s not like he had anything to worry about.  Even if he’d had a night of drunken debauchery that night nothing would come of it.  He made sure to only frequent muggle establishments when he needed to blow off steam and in order for there to be a positive result the other man would have needed to be a wizard.  He was being silly.  His illness was obviously cause by something else.

He cast the spell…

…and gulped.

The light was purple.

– 30 –

End Chapter 03

 


	5. Chapter 04

The lunch was brought into the office as Percy and Minister Fudge were sorting through the current mound of paperwork.  Without paying attention, Percy picked up the sandwich that was set next to him and almost took a bite when a nauseating smell hit his nose.

“Oh, Loholt! What is that smell!?” he exclaimed, startled. [5]

“Eh?” Fudge looked up from his own sandwich in confusion.  He watched as Percy dropped his sandwich back to the plate and covered his mouth.

“Ex-excuse me, Minister,” he managed before bolting from the room.  He made it to the restroom that was, thankfully, located just around the corner before emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearest toilet.  Damn… he’d made it to his seventeenth week without experiencing a bout of morning sickness at work.  He rinsed his mouth and washed his face, looking at himself in the mirror.  It was actually a miracle he wasn’t obviously showing.  If one looked close enough, though, it looked as though he’d gained some weight.  He sighed to himself and returned to the office and dull paperwork, confident he could pass the incident off as a simple sickness.

“I apologize, Minister,” he said as he re-entered the man’s office. “I seem to be experiencing the beginnings of a flu. But it’s not so bad, I’m sure I can finish with the paperwork today. Taking it easy at home tonight should put it to rights.”

“Oh, no need to trouble yourself so, Mr. Weasley,” Fudge chuckled “After four children I think I can recognize morning sickness when I see it.” Percy froze, looking at the Minister with wide, startled eyes. “Why, I remember when my wife was pregnant with our Nora. She couldn’t stand the smell of apples and cinnamon, of all things! But, you know, she was constantly craving quail eggs. I say, I didn’t even realize you’d gotten married!”

“I… er…” Percy paled and looked away, hand resting on the stack of paperwork he’d been going through before his stomach had revolted.

“Now tell, me, who is the lucky man who managed to nab you?”

Words were stuck in Percy’s throat and he could feel the tips of his ears going red. “W-well… er…”

“Come now, no need to be bashful,” Fudge pressed on. “I’m sure he’s a fine young man.”

“I, um…”

Fudge’s eyes narrowed as he paused to actually look at Percy. “Well, you _are_ married, are you not, Mr. Weasley?”

Percy could do nothing but stare silently at the Minister, eyes wide like a unicorn caught in the lamplight.

* * *

When Percy arrived home lunch was, thankfully, over.  His mother was surprised to see him and he made the excuse of being unwell before hiding in his room.  He couldn’t face her with the truth.  Not yet.  Percy didn’t doubt that, by the time he came home tonight, his father would be aware that Percy’d been sacked.

The question was, would he know why?

He removed his work suit and change into an outfit that was more comfortable before settling down on his bed.  Before he knew it he was being shaken awake.  He opened his tired eyes to see Bill starting down at him with concern.  He sat up and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Dad’s home and he wants to talk to you,” Bill said and frowned when he noticed Percy go rather pale. “He’s in the family room.”

Percy cleared his throat and merely nodded.  He stood and made his way downstairs, not daring to meet his eldest brother’s eyes.  He walked down the stairs, feeling the entire time like he was walking to his own execution.  As he got closer to the bottom he was startled to hear Oliver laughing with Charlie and Sirius in the kitchen.  He hadn’t realized Oliver would be back already.  He felt Bill pass him and go into the kitchen, which sounded full, as he continued on to the family room, he was taken aback to see Professor Dumbledore standing next to his parents along with Auror Shacklebolt and a couple other senior order members.

“Percy. There you are, son,” his father said with a concerned smile. “Your mother said you were unwell earlier. How are you feeling now?”

“Yes, Dad,” Percy replied. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” his father nodded happily. “Now, there was something I wanted to ask you about, son. You see, I heard some troubling news concerning you earlier, and I wanted to confirm it with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

He noticed his father frown at his choice of wording before continuing. “I heard a rumour that you’d been let go this afternoon.”

“What!?” his mother exclaimed loudly, causing the noise in the kitchen to go down. “Why on Gaia would they let you go?” [6]

“Son, did they find out your family was connected with the Order?” his father asked, voice filled with distress at the thought of causing this. “Was it because of us?”

Percy felt a pang in his chest.  He loved his family and hated what he was about to do to them. “No.”

“Did someone find out you were passing information to the Order?” Dumbledore asked.

Percy shook his head. “No.”

“Then why would they let you go?” his mother asked, her face full of compassion and concern. “You’ve been working so hard!”

Percy tried to stand with as much dignity as he could muster but he couldn’t quite hold his shoulders straight and refused to look away from the rug.  He swallowed the lump in his throat and, after a couple false starts, stated clearly so as not to have to repeat himself “I’m pregnant.”  His admission was met with dead silence from everyone, even those in the kitchen.

An audible ‘ _smack’_ resounded in the room.

“How _dare_ you?” Molly said in a harsh whisper.  Percy’s head was pointed to the side, an angry red handprint on his cheek.  His mother’s hushed tones were worse than if she’d screamed at him.  He curled in on himself but he daren’t try to hide the angry mark on his cheek, he let it stand as the mark of his disgrace. “After _everything_ we’ve done for you. Everything we’ve _sacrificed_ for you.”

“How long have you known?” Arthur asked with a level tone.

Percy swallowed. “Just today,” he lied, his voice small.

More silence.

“Whose is it?” Arthur asked quietly.  Percy hung his head in shame and pressed his lips together, unable to look at either of his parents and ignoring his stinging cheek as he hugged himself. _“Whose is it!?”_ the normally genial man shouted in demanded.  Percy visibly flinched but still didn’t answer, his eyes stinging with the unshed tears he was barely able to keep at bay.  He heard Arthur’s harsh sign. “I’m very disappointed in you, Percy,” he said unforgivingly before walking out of the room.

The uncomfortable silence was bearing down on Percy like a physical weight.

“Go to your room,” Molly demanded. “And stay there. I can’t stand the sight of you.”

Without looking up, Percy turned and fled up the stairs.  His lip was trembling and tears were beginning to escape.

* * *

Percy lay on his bunk, half curled up on his side.  His tears had long since dried up, but he knew that wasn’t likely to last for long.  He was exhausted.  Mentally, emotionally, and physically.  He’d known since he found out in back in September that this was going to happen.  He just wished it had taken a little longer.  Maybe after the holidays…  Maybe never…

The bedroom door opened and he listened to the footfalls of whoever it was get closer.

“Hey, Perce,” Charlie said quietly, sounding very awkward.  Percy didn’t respond.  There was nothing to say. “If you want to tell someone who it-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Percy stated tiredly.  He didn’t turn around.  Didn’t want to see the look in his second eldest brother’s eyes.

“Okay… Maybe later.”

Percy listened as his brother left, shutting the door again.  Damnation in Tartarus, his eyes stung again.

* * *

Marcus dropped into a seat at the kitchen table and sighed.  He tilted his head back and shut his eyes.  It was only mid-afternoon and he was already exhausted.  The mission he’d just been on had required him to sleep on the cold, hard ground for four weeks.  At this point, so long as he was warm he didn’t really care all that much _where_ he slept, so long as it wasn’t directly on the floor.  Even a straw pallet would be heaven to his sore muscles right now.

“Hey, Flint,” Oliver greeted.  Marcus cracked open an eye to see a friendly, if entirely too energetic, grin on the other man’s face.  Marcus grunted. “Still as talkative as ever, I see,” Oliver laughed.  Marcus flipped him the bird, causing him to laugh harder, and shut his eye again.

A light clatter caught his attention and he looked down to find a steaming mug of hot chocolate now sitting on the table in front of him.  He nodded his thanks to Bill as the eldest Weasley and his girlfriend, Fleur, sat at the table as well.  He felt more human after downing half of the drink and sighed, more contently this time. “Shouldn’t you be at practice or something?” he finally asked.

“Nah,” Oliver replied. “Quidditch is off for the holidays. Won’t pick up again until mid-January.” They sat in a comfortable silence. “Y’know, you’d know that if you’d joined a team.”

Marcus scoffed. “That was fun while we were in school, but _surprisingly_ I never saw myself continuing after I’d finally graduated. I need something with a little more… I dunno, _challenge_.”

Oliver balked at the idea. “What the heck could be more challenging that Quidditch?” he asked as Charlie wandered in.

“Dragon taming comes to mind,” Marcus offered with a smirk.  Charlie chuckled.  Marcus noted that they were missing a roommate. “So is Percy still at work?” he asked, taking another gulp of his hot chocolate. “Or is it a workday today? I got my dates all mixed up.” He looked up and was suddenly aware of the uncomfortable tension in the room.  He frowned. “What happened?”

Oliver looked away, he was blushing and his cheerful demeanor replaced by and what Marcus would call a sneer on someone else.  It didn’t make sense on the Quidditch Keeper.  Fleur was sitting prim and proper, focusing solely on her own drink and looking nowhere else.  Charlie wouldn’t meet his eye and Marcus thought he saw shame on the second Weasley son’s face.  Even Bill looked embarrassed.

“Well, _someone_ better tell me,” he said, irritated.

Bill heaved a weary sigh. “Percy got sacked,” he stated.

“Wh- Sacked? _Percy?_ ” Marcus was stunned.  Perfect Percival was the last person he’d ever think would actually get fired from a job.

“Well, it’s not like there was any other choice,” Oliver said, his snide tone catching Marcus off guard.  He raised an eyebrow.

“What in Hades are you talking about?”

Charlie exhaled loudly in frustration. “Percy compromised his honour and shamed himself,” he snapped.

Marcus blinked and his expression was suddenly carefully blank.  Inside his head he was flipping out. _‘ Percy? Shamed himself!? What in Hades is going on?’_ Outwardly he simply said “Huh.”

Oliver scoffed. “Is that all you can say?” He turned his narrowed honey-coloured eyes on Marcus.  The former Slytherin subtly raised an eyebrow and kept his face blank in response.  Oliver frowned as he searched the stony face and Marcus could practically see the cogs turning in that strategic brain.

“When did this happen?” he asked turning back to the mug in his hands.

“Two weeks ago,” Bill answered.

Marcus gave a non-committal grunt and drained his mug before standing. “I’m knackered,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I’m going to sleep.”

When he got to their room he paused as he took in the form laying on one of the bottom bunks.  Percy was laying on his side with his back facing the room.  Something in his chest clenched.  He took a slow breath and moved forward, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Perce,” he said as he stopped right next to the bed in question. “You awake?”

Percy shifted a little. “Marcus?” The clenching in his chest got tighter as he heard the smallness of the voice.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He got no other response. “I just got back.”  Still no response.  He was about to turn away and lay down on his bunk when a small sniffle reached his ears.  He looked down at the younger man a moment and sighed softly.  He shucked his outer robes and tossed them on the spare bunk, and removed his boots, before wordlessly settling down behind the sad form.

Percy didn’t resist when Marcus wrapped his arms securely around him and pulled him to the muscular chest.

Just like with the nightmares, Marcus simply held him until he stopped trembling.

– 30 –

End Chapter 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> [5] Loholt – Arthurian character; an illegitimate son of Arthur.
> 
> [6] (Greek Primordial Deity) Gaia – personification of the Earth (Mother Earth); mother of the Titans.


	6. Chapter 05

The next day the house was in a bit of a tizzy.  Order members were coming and going to drop off various reports or being assigned new missions until noon, and the Weasleys were planning a Christmas shopping trip.  The Hogwarts students were due to arrive tonight and Christmas itself was only a few days away.

Marcus steadfastly refused to go anywhere or do anything.

He’d just come back from a four week away mission and hadn’t had more than a day’s rest between missions for three, nearly four months.  He was exhausted, damn it.  He needed a break to recharge before going off gallivanting around the countryside, or the continent, or wherever the Order saw fit to send him for whatever errand they deemed necessary.  As far as he was concerned, he was unavailable until after the New Year.  Maybe February.  And that’s exactly how he phrased the irritated tirade that resulted when a new mission was suggested to him.

He was sprawled, half asleep, in an armchair in the family room nursing a large mug of very strong tea as everyone bustled back and forth.  He glared at the mug.  It was good tea but he was actually missing the strongly brewed coffee he’d gotten used to drinking while away.  He wasn’t sure if that ticked him off more.  As it was, he sneered at anyone who invaded his self-constructed imaginary bubble.  After nearly a year and a half, nearly everyone had figured out his bark often tended to be worse than his bite and only the most skittish payed him any mind as they went about their business.

The last of the Weasley party had apparated away to wherever they were to do their shopping immediately following lunch, and they would apparently be back in time for a late supper.  Marcus sighed and finally lifted himself out of the chair he’d claimed only a couple hours earlier.  He deposited his now empty mug in the kitchen sink to be magically washed and opened the cold cupboard in search of something to eat. (He’d declined lunch with everyone else, and he wasn’t about to risk the Weasley Matriarch’s wrath if he snuck some of the food that was being kept fresh in the oven and disrupted the warming spells.)

He turned at the sound of light footfalls behind him to see Percy emerge from the stairwell.  He shut the cupboard and blinked.  This was his first good look at the younger man and, despite knowing the state the man was in, was surprised to see the only-just visible expansion of his stomach through the baggy shirt he wore over a pair of cotton pants.

Marcus inaudibly gulped, his mind going to naughty places they probably shouldn’t.

“Hey, Perce,” he offered.  Despite his voice being gentle the redhead was clearly startled.

“Hullo, Marcus,” Percy replied lowly, averting his wide-eyed gaze.

“Hungry?” Marcus offered, reopening the cold cupboard.

“Yes.” He was standing awkwardly at the entrance to the kitchen, looking everywhere but not making eye contact.  Marcus frowned momentarily before suggesting cold meat sandwiches. “Um, sure,” Percy nodded. “Just… nothing with mustard,” he requested, remembering his bout of sickness two weeks prior that had forced his condition out in the open.

“No problem.” Marcus quickly fixed them both a late lunch and they ate in companionable silence despite the lingering awkwardness. “So how’ve you been feeling lately?” Marcus asked as he cleared away the dishes.

“Fine, I guess,” Percy replied, tracing the wood grain of the table.

“Where’d you get that,” Marcus asked, indicating the bruise that was still healing on Percy’s left cheek.

Percy looked ashamed. “My mother was… less than pleased. And I believe she may have put some magic into it.”

Marcus frowned, and the feeling he’d gotten in his chest when he’d first seen Percy lying pitifully on his bed the previous night returned. “So, how long have you known?” he asked conversationally.

Percy’s lips thinned for a moment, toying with the idea of lying to Marcus as he’d lied to his parents.  But thinking back on how the man had comforted him after his nightmares whenever he’d actually been home made him change his mind. “Since about halfway through September,” he said quietly.  They were silent for a few moments before he added, “I told my family I’d only just found out the day I was… dismissed… from the Ministry.”

“You still getting sick on a regular basis?” Percy looked at him surprised and he grinned. “What? I paid attention in my third year health class.”

Percy’s ears turned pink and he gave a tiny grin which turned into a grimace. “Yes, I’m still getting sick _every day_. And I feel like I’m physically exhausted _all the time._ ” Marcus chuckled at his indignant expression.  Percy glared and Marcus couldn’t help but laugh.  Percy harrumphed and stood quickly. [7] He was about offer a no doubt scathing remark when his hand clamped over his mouth and bolted into the main floor bathroom.

He felt Marcus’, by now, familiar magic brush against his when the older man entered the bathroom behind him as he emptied his lunch into the toilet.  He sighed when the older man placed a damp cloth on the back of his neck and gently rubbed his back.  He heaved a few more times and groaned.  “I’d hoped this part would have calmed down by now.” He knew he sounded pathetic as he sat back and used the cloth to wipe his mouth.  He used a wandless cleansing charm to freshen his mouth.  He knew male pregnancies were harder than female pregnancies, but it still sucked.  He felt like crying… again.  He cried so much these days that even _that_ fact made him want to cry.

Marcus sighed from where he kneeled on the floor next to him and pulled him into his arms. “I know,” he said and held him close. “It’ll be alright, Perce,” he said gently into Percy’s ear. “Everything will be just fine.”

Percy’s eyes glazed over.  Marcus’ words reverberated in his head. _‘It’ll be alright, Perce…’_   That voice… _‘Everything will be just fine…’_   _That voice…_

Percy gasped and shoved Marcus away, hard.  He backed up into the wall next to the toilet he’d just emptied his guts into as a memory flashed through his head as clear as if it’d just happened.  A memory filled with pain. “B-But you… y-you,” Percy was hyperventilating.  Staring at Marcus as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Percy?” Marcus asked, concern written all over his face.

Percy gulped. “Y-you were, were gone,” he choked out in a hushed voice. _“You were gone,”_ he insisted.

“Perce, what’s wrong?” Marcus reached forward to try comfort the panicking redhead.  When Percy flinched he pulled back, startled. _“Percy?”_

Percy didn’t respond, he just dropped his head into his hands and pulled on his hair.  Marcus felt helpless.  All he could do was watch as Percy held his head and kept saying “you were gone” and “it can’t be” and “no” and “it wasn’t a nightmare” over, and over again and cried.

“Percy?” Marcus tried again, keeping his voice soft.  His own eyes stung.  Every fibre of his being wanted nothing more than to take the smaller man in his arms and protect him from whatever was going on in his head.  For perhaps the thousandth time he wondered what had been in Percy’s persistent nightmare.  A nightmare, it now seemed, had been all too real.  The desperate voice coming from the man in front of him was tearing at his heart. “Percy, _please_.”

Percy finally stuttered out a hushed phrase that made Marcus’ insides freeze. “Y-you were _gone_ … so h-how could you _rape_ me?”

 _“What?”_ His eyes widened in horror and he fell backwards onto his butt.  The word ‘rape’ reverberating in his head.

Percy let out a shuttering sob. _“You were gone…”_

“G-gone?”

Percy finally looked up with wide, desperately pleading eyes. “You wer-were on a mission. Y-you weren’t here…” He sounded like he was desperately trying to convince someone. “You were… _all…_ ” he gasped for air.

Marcus felt his chest constrict painfully.  His lungs were beginning to struggle for air, his heart was pounding in his chest… in his ears.  His vision was getting dark. _“P-Perce…”_ He focused on the wretched figure in front of him, trying to control his own emotions and trying _not_ to lose control of his magic for the first time since he was a child.

Child…  His focus snapped to the bulge in Percy’s stomach.  _‘Oh Hades and Demeter…’_ [8] His vision blurred and he closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall forward.

He started when he felt something touch his cheek.  He opened his eyes and he lifted his head, looking into Percy’s tear streaked face.  The younger man had moved closer to him. “You’re crying…” Percy was looking at him with something akin to disbelief.

Marcus blinked and realized he was shaking.  He lifted his hand and felt a warm liquid on his face.  When he looked back at Percy he found that he couldn’t stop the trembling of his lip and let out a startled sob.  He reached out a shaking hand to touch Percy’s face but, remembering the flinch earlier, pulled back.  Percy caught his wrist and the two stare at each other.

Marcus took in a shaky breath. “Gods, Percy,” he breathed out. “I swear, _on my magic-_ ” Percy pressed a hand to his lips.

“I believe you,” he said simply.  Tears fell from his blue eyes and Marcus reached out again, brushing the fresh tears from Percy’s cheek.

“I…” Marcus shook his head. “Never… _could_ never-”

“I know,” Percy agreed quietly, the sad look never leaving his eyes.  He was inherently aware of this fact, despite the memory. “ _I know_ … they… _whoever_ … they used your voice.” Marcus choked back another sob and dropped his head again, eyes squeezing shut. “They used you voice…” Percy repeated, but this time he sounded bemused.  Marcus looked up to see Percy staring blankly at the wall, a frown on his face.

“Percy?”

Percy looked back at him, hands clutching onto both of Marcus’ forearms. “They used your _voice_.”

Marcus shook his head, confused. “I don’t know-”

“Marcus,” Percy shook him. _“Polyjuice.”_

Marcus’ eyebrows shot up as he realized what Percy was saying.  Percy suddenly exhaled and went boneless.  Marcus caught him and scrambled a bit to hold the smaller man to him. “Percy!”

Percy pressed his face to Marcus’ chest and exhaled. “That was terrifying.” Marcus’ hold tightened. “I… Part of me is shocked that I’d forgotten what happened…” Percy tucked his head under Marcus’ chin. “I’m not sure what was worse… living through it, or remembering it like that.” His body shook as a new wave of blasted tears sprung forth.  He clung to Marcus, sobbed into the larger man’s firm chest.  He closed his eyes and felt the large, callused hands rub calming circles on his back, took comfort in the feel of the man’s magic swirl around him…  His magic…  Something nagged at the back of his head.

He sat up straight.

“Perce?”

“I… I remember something else…” He frowned and placed a hand on his forehead. “But, I’m not sure exactly what.” He tugged on his hair. “I know… something. Something to do with magic… a signature.” He sighed, dropping his head into his hands, letting out a frustrated groan. “My mind was too addled that night. I think whoever it was slipped me a potion of some kind.”

Marcus reached up and massaged the back of Percy’s neck. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to force it.” He shifted, realizing he was uncomfortable on the floor. “Let’s get you up,” he said as he stood before helping Percy up. “It’s not good for you on the floor. It’s not good for the-” He snapped his mouth shut and froze.

Percy froze too, the full ramifications of that horrible incident sinking in.  His hand hovered over his swelled stomach.  His lips thinned and he found he couldn’t look Marcus in the eyes again. “I… I think I’d like to go lay down.”  He let Marcus lead him up to their room.

He lay down on his back, still not looking at Marcus, and finally let his hand touch his rounded belly.  His lips trembled and he just couldn’t stop himself as he began to cry again.  Marcus lay down beside him and tried to pull him into a hug but Percy turned away, putting his back to the older man. “Don’t,” he choked out. “I’m tainted.” He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud until arms wound around him and held him in a strong, comforting embrace.

“You’re not.”

“Yes, I am. And this child is too.”

 _“No,”_ Marcus insisted. “No. You’re not.” One of Marcus’ large hands moved to rest on Percy’s distended belly. “You’re not.”

“But this baby-”

“Is yours. It’s _yours_ Perce.”

Percy placed a hand over Marcus’ and admitted in a whisper, “I wish it was yours too.”

Marcus’ chest constricted and he pulled the smaller frame closer to him. “It can be.”

“You can’t know that for sure. It’s extremely rare that the father of the child is the Guise and not the person who’d actually drank the Polyjuice. There isn’t enough research to definitively-”

“No, I mean it _can_ be,” Marcus interrupted.

“W-what?”

Marcus was silent for a while, considering his words. “I could claim it.”

Percy maneuvers himself back onto his back to get a better look at the other man’s face. “Why would you do that?” he asked with a frown. “Why would you _shame_ yourself for me?”

Marcus swallowed as Percy scrutinized his face. “This is probably the worst time to admit this, but…” He took a fortifying breath. “I love you, Perce.” He watched as Percy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know when it started, but I’ve known it since the first time I saw you in my old Quidditch jersey.”

Percy choked out a self-depreciating sob and rolled into Marcus, pressing his head into the man’s shoulder. “Damn it, why couldn’t this have happened sooner?” He lay in Marcus’ embrace until the fresh wave of tears stopped. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“How do you feel about me?”

Percy looked up and met Marcus’ gaze. “I started falling in love with you the third week you moved in.”

Marcus quirked a grin. “The third week?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure I was just hallucinating you being all nice to everyone that first week.”

“Well, not _everyone_ ,” Marcus rolled his eyes.

“And the second, I was distracted by the fact that we could actually have a decent conversation on a daily basis.” A small smile tugged at Percy’s mouth and Marcus chuckled.

“Is that why you always bolted when someone else walked in the room?”

“I didn’t _bolt_ ,” Percy protested. “I just, I didn’t dare believe that you could feel the same way about me. And I was always afraid that others would take one look at me and _know_. If they knew, they’d tease me for it and I was afraid it would drive you away.”

They looked searchingly into each other eyes before Marcus leaned his head down and gently pressed his lips to the corner of Percy’s mouth.  He pulled back slightly and Percy turned his head before pressing their lips firmly together.  Marcus threaded his finger into the hair at the back of Percy’s head and Percy brushed his hand along Marcus’ jaw.  They nipped and gasped and nibbled and gently sucked until they couldn’t breathe.

Percy let himself fall back and cursed. “Why couldn’t this have happened sooner?” he repeated.

Marcus moved down Percy’s body until his was in directly facing the soft mound that housed Percy’s child.  He lifted the shirt that covered it – another of his old ones – and placed his hands on either side, directly to Percy’s skin, and rested his forehead directly over the child inside. “I do solemnly swear to always claim you as my own, as though you were my flesh and blood, for all of my life, even should you cast me aside. I swear this, _on my life and magic_ , or may Hestia strike me down and cast my soul into Tartarus. So mote it be.” As he finished a light a soft golden light appeared beneath his hands and settled into Percy’s belly.  They watched as it glowed under Percy’s skin and shaped into the form of the nineteen week old foetus inside before fading.

“You know, Hestia’s considered to be benign,” Percy stated, his voice full of emotion.  He was extremely touched at what Marcus had just so willingly given up.

“Yes,” Marcus conceded. “But I intend for our family to build a home.”

Percy smiled softly at this. “Family?”

Marcus crawled back up until they were face to face. “Yes.” He placed a hand over Percy’s child, now _their_ child according to the laws of magic. “Family.”

Percy linked his fingers with that hand and rested their palms over their child.  Suddenly, all these weeks of hidden shame followed by outward scorn didn’t matter anymore.  The dark feelings from remembering that horrible night were banished for the time being.  Right now, in this moment, he was finally content.

– 30 –

End Chapter 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> [7] No note, I just couldn’t believe that “harrumph” is an actual word for a moment. According to Merriam-Webster it means (1) to clear the throat in a pompous way, (2) to comment disapprovingly, or (3) to utter (a comment) disapprovingly.
> 
> [8] This one is probably self-explanatory. Hades is, obviously, the god of the underworld and the dead. Demeter, mother to Persephone, is perhaps best known as the goddess of the harvest. I chose to add her to the exclamation because of her vow to not allow anything to grow while her daughter is forced to live in the Underworld, leaving the world barren and cold. I think I used it in place of “Hellfire and Damnation”.


	7. Chapter 06

“He’s probably going to hit you. You do realize that?” Percy asked worriedly as he paced the room.

“I know it,” Marcus nodded from his seat on one of the lower bunks. “But I’m man enough to take it.” They’d heard the rest of the Weasley Clan return, with the Hogwarts students in tow no doubt, a few minutes prior.  They and the rest of the Order members who were currently staying in the Burrow were likely getting ready to eat.

“I want to say that you don’t need to do this,” Percy said, hugging himself. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Marcus stood and wrapped his arms around the younger man. “It wasn’t your fault either. But I _do_ need to do this,” he stated. “Because I _want_ you,” he rubbed a hand on Percy’s stomach. “I want _both_ of you. But given the state of things, propriety dictates that this is the easiest way to accomplish having you.”  He pulled Percy into a hug and gently kissed his lips to stop Percy from biting them.

“Alright,” Percy conceded, leaning his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder.

“It will work out in the end,” Marcus promised.

“Even if it’s just us?”

“Yeah, even if all we have left is the three of us.” He pressed a kiss to Percy’s temple.  Before squaring his shoulders and heading downstairs in a confident stride.  Percy nervously followed at a more reserved pace.

The entire Weasley family, save Percy, was seated in the kitchen, the table laden with the food that had been prepared earlier.  Among them were some friends, including Potter and the Granger girl, and significant others, and the predicted assorted Order members.  He noticed a few other students that had been in his or Percy’s year mixed into the group, including the Clearwater bint who had never ceased to turn her pointy little nose up and sneer at him.  He had no problems sneering back.  Marcus took note of the former Gryffindor team Chasers who were still in school.  Like Oliver, their dislike of him was good-natured and limited to the Quidditch field.  One of them waved at him as he entered and he rolled his eyes, which she just laughed at.  Also, like Oliver, their seemingly perpetual cheerfulness grated his nerves.

“Marcus! You look in better spirits, why don’t you join us?” Molly said kindly.  Some people snorted.  Many of the Hogwarts students and Weasley twins looked startled by this and looked at him with apprehension.

“Thank you ma’am, but no,” Marcus replied.  “Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, might I have a word with you both in the family room?”

“Yes of course, my boy,” Arthur replied pleasantly. “Come, come.” He led the way out of the room.  “Now, what’s this about, Marcus?”

Marcus felt Percy’s magic brush up against his and, even ignoring the glare Molly aimed over his shoulder, knew the younger man had entered the room.  He looked straight into the older man’s eyes and said, “Mr. Weasley, I’d like to ask you both for your blessing.”

Arthur paused, visibly surprized. “Our blessing?”  His eyes shifted to where Percy stood somewhere behind him.  “And which of my children is it that you are asking our blessing for?” he carefully asked.

Marcus forced his muscles to relax. “Percy, sir.”

“Excuse me?” Both Arthur and Molly looked taken aback.

Marcus’s lips thinned and he took a deep breath. “I wish to take responsibility for the child we created.” Marcus grunted and staggered back a couple steps.  Mr. Weasley was a lot stronger than he looked.  Marcus was impressed by the man’s right hook.  He’d actually had to wait for his vision to clear before looking back up at the Weasley parents.  Mrs. Weasley looked appalled while Mr. Weasley was clearly furious.

The man turned to his third son, “And just why didn’t you inform us of this two weeks ago, Percy?”

Percy audibly gulped and looked up. “I d-didn’t know until that day that I was… well. And I wanted to- wanted _him_ to know about it beforehand. Before I officially named him.”

Mr. Weasley glared at Percy who shrank back a little and dropped his gaze. “And why did you both wait until tonight to inform us? Why not yesterday?” he demanded angrily. “I assume it was more than a little obvious.”

Marcus frowned and gave a short frustrated huff, “I’ve been going almost non-stop for months. I was about ready to drop. Plus, I could barely think straight until late this afternoon.”  Mrs. Weasley was now glaring daggers at him.  He straightened his shoulders. “Please, sir, ma’am, I wish to do the honourable thing and make right the humiliation I’ve brought on your family.”

In the kitchen, the muggle-raised individuals were of the opinion that his wording was a little too exaggerated for the situation, but, from the reactions of the Wizard-raised individuals surrounding them, some seemed to believe it was actually not quite enough.

“The _honourable_ thing,” Arthur scoffed. “The _honourable_ thing would have been to ask for our blessing _before_ you compromised our son and disgraced both our Houses.”

“Yes, sir,” was all Marcus could say. “I still ask it.”

“Well, there’s really little else you can do now. The very least the two of you can do is hide your shame, and may Eusebeia have mercy on you,” Molly spat. [9] “You have no option now but marriage, if only to prevent your ill-begotten spawn from being born a bastard. _Oh! What will people think of us!?_ ” She pressed her hands to her face.

Arthur studied them silently for a minute. “I am going to have to insist on the Paterfamilias Revelation Trial.” There are several intakes of breath. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow marriage rites to be spoken and have a young man’s name tarnished only to have it be later proven to have simply been because my irresponsible son managed to con that man into publicly claiming his bastard child as a means to save his own face.” Percy couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

The Paterfamilias Revelation Trial was only conducted when someone contested the validity of a claim of paternity of an unborn child.  It was created to protect men from being conned into marriage after being wrongly accused of compromising another’s honour in cases where a child was produced.  When cast, a ring glowing a soft blue appears in front of the pregnant individual’s midsection.  If it then turns green, the man who cast the incantation is not, according to magic, the father of the unborn child.  If it turns gold, paternity is confirmed.

Marcus stared back, unwavering. “Done.” He could tell there are several individuals who were shocked at his easy acceptance.  It was suddenly glaringly obvious what they thought of Percy.  He turned from Mr. Weasley and stood facing Percy in front of everyone in the family room – a number of those in the kitchen had joined them by standing in the entryway to watch.  He noticed a self-satisfied expression on Oliver’s face and inwardly rolled his eyes.  Percy trembled but tried his hardest not to show it.  It helped when he finally looked up and met Marcus’ gaze.  Without hesitation, Marcus took out his wand and moved it in a circular motion above the area on Percy’s body that housed their resting child and spoke the incantation. _“_ _Indica patri tuo verum est.”_ [10]

The light blue ring appeared and they could practically feel the individuals in the entryway leaning forward to so see more clearly.  There was a collective intake of breath as the colour shifted and the ring turned a brilliant gold.

When Marcus turned back to the Weasley Patriarch the older man was stony faced. “Understand this, Mr. Flint,” he intoned gravely, referring to Marcus by his surname for the first time since the former Slytherin first arrived nearly a year and a half prior. “Once you marry, he will cease being a Weasley and be _your_ responsibility. Any problems will be _your_ mess to clean up. After the marriage is finalized, I want you both gone.”

“Understood,” Marcus said.  Percy was deeply hurt by his father’s words but not surprised.  He’d actually expected to be thrown out the instant his pregnancy was discovered.

Professor Dumbledore was fire-called and asked to travel to the Burrow as immediately as possible.  As the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and a member of the International Confederation of Wizards, Dumbledore had the authority to conduct the marriage rights.  He was also the only individual with that authority that would be willing to do so tonight on such short notice.  He didn’t look pleased about the particulars of their situation.

“I believe it is best to stick to a simple ceremony in this case,” he suggested.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Weasley agreed.

“We of course need two witnesses above the age of fifteen,” Dumbledore intoned.  After a period of silence, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were about to speak when they were interrupted.

“I’ll do it.” Eyes turned to look at Harry in shock.  The sixth-year boy was currently sixteen years old.

“Harry, _no_ ,” Mrs. Weasley protested. “I cannot allow it.”

Harry frowned. “I want to. And I’m over fifteen. I’m sixteen.” She was about to protest again when Hermione spoke up.

“I will as well,” she stated. “Whether you allow Harry to or not. I am seventeen and a full adult in the eyes of the law.” Any further protest died, so a current Hogwarts Prefect and a current Hogwarts Quidditch Captain stood witness to the marriage of a former Hogwarts Prefect/Head Boy and a former Hogwarts Quidditch Captain.

As promised, it was a very basic ceremony.  Marcus and Percy stood before Dumbledore in the family room, accompanied by only Hermione and Harry.  The rest of the Burrow’s residents had removed themselves to the kitchen.

“Take each other’s hands,” Dumbledore instructed. “Do you, Marcus Tristan Flint, consent to this bond of marriage and solemnly swear to honour it and the House you shall create?”

“I solemnly swear,” Marcus responded unhesitatingly.

“And do you, Percival Ignatius Weasley, consent to this bond of marriage and solemnly swear to honour it and the House you shall create?”

“I solemnly swear,” Percy replied softly.

“Have you rings?”

“Yes,” Marcus said as he removed a pair of carved wooden bands inlayed with a silver coloured metal from his pocket.  If there was one thing Marcus was good at, it was crafting magic.  He’d worked on the bands earlier while Percy slept after the shocking return of his memory, knowing they’d be needed sooner rather than later.

Dumbledore took the rings and held them up for the room’s few occupants to see. “By my magic, I bind you both to your vows of marriage before these witnesses. These rings shall stand as proof of your oath and, once placed on your hands, shall seal the agreement.”

The Hogwarts Headmaster handed the rings back to Marcus, who handed one to Percy before taking hold of Percy’s left hand.  He gently slipping the ring onto the fourth finger, where it fit perfectly with no need to be resized.  Percy then did the same for Marcus.

“And so, it is sealed,” Dumbledore intoned and raised his wand.  A light sprung from its’ tip and formed into a piece of parchment.  He then conjured a quill and inkpot before placing the items on a nearby table.  After scrawling his name on the indicated space of the document, he stepped aside.  First, Marcus and Percy signed.  Then, Harry and Hermione added their signatures.  Dumbledore banished the inkpot and quill then tapped the document with his wand causing it to glow and disappear.  A moment later a small bound scroll appeared on the table, which he handed to Marcus. “It has been officially filed with the Ministry,” he said before bowing his head slightly and walking out of the room.

Percy and Marcus just stood looking at each other.  A throat cleared, drawing their attention.

“Erm… Congratulations,” Harry offered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione smiled gently beside him. “Yes, congratulation.” She then bit her lip and frowned slightly before practically launching at Percy, throwing her arms around him in a hug.  Though startled, Percy returned the hug gratefully.  Marcus raised his eyebrow at Harry who sniggered and offered a hand to shake.  Marcus grinned and accepted it.

They watched the two Hogwarts students walk into the kitchen before heading upstairs to pack their belongings.

– 30 –

End Chapter 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> [9] Eusebeia - spirit of piety, loyalty, duty, and filial respect.
> 
> [10] Indica patri tuo verum est – translated into Latin from “Reveal your true father” via Google Translate.


	8. Chapter 07

It was long past dark when the front door to the Adder’s Fork Motel opened.  There had been no accommodations available at the Leaky Cauldron that night, so they’d walked from the Cauldron all the way to halfway down Knockturn Alley to the nearest cheap lodging and were both shivering when they finally entered the Adder’s Fork lobby.  The snow on the ground had been past their ankles and more large flakes were falling heavily around them – the warming charms hadn’t managed to hold back the chill from the wind for very long.

The desk clerk barely glanced up from her magazine when they approached. “How long, then?”

“How much?” Marcus asked, shaking off his cloak.  Percy self-consciously kept his wrapped around him.

“Single or double?”

“Excuse me?” Marcus looked puzzled.

She looked up from her copy of Witch Weekly. “Will you be needing one bed or two?”

“Oh.” He spared a glance at Percy, who shrugged. “Er, single will be fine.”

“That’s 14 galleons a night,” she replied immediately, returning to her magazine. [11]

“How much per week?”

“Weekly rate is 80 per.”

“We’ll book a week, for now,” he replied, pulling out his money pouch and paying for the week while she took his information.  He’d need to stop by Gringotts sometime soon but he had enough on him for them to be able to eat for a couple days.  They were going to have to discuss their collective finances.

They settled quickly into the room, ignoring the shabby state of the furniture, and practically collapsed into bed.  They lay beside each other, not touching.  They’d lain down, curled around each other, several times over the past months but… it was suddenly weird.  After a long, uncomfortable silence and some tossing and turning and shivering in the cold room (warming charms only doing so much) they finally turned to each other and spoke for the first time since they’d spoken marriage vows.

“Look, I-” Marcus started at the same time Percy said “I’m sorry-”

They both stopped and chuckled.

“We’re being silly, aren’t we?” Percy asked, looking at Marcus’ face in the dim light that reflected off the snow and glowed through the thin curtains.

“Probably,” Marcus agreed.  “C’mere,” he said as he pulled Percy’s shivering body close to his, back flush to his chest.  Percy sighed and relaxed into the embrace.  Marcus was beginning to drift asleep when Percy gasped. “What?” he partially bolted up, startled.

“I…” Percy managed.

“Perce?” He was met with silence. _“Percy.”_

Percy maneuvered onto his back. “I felt something.”

“What do you mean? Felt what? Where?”

Percy took a deep breath and grabbed Marcus’ hand. “Here,” he said as he placed the hand over his stomach. “It was so soft I almost missed it,” Percy explained softly. “It was like… I don’t know. Like, bubbles I guess.”

Marcus watched as a look of wonder played on his new husband’s face, a soft smile tugging at his lips.  He stroked his thumb over the mound beneath his hand and closed his eyes.  His eyes snapped open again. “What was that?”

“Hmm?”

“I could swear I felt…” Marcus frowned in thought.

“Felt what?” Percy turned half lidded eyes towards him.

“Something… warm and… sort of tingly,” he tried to describe the odd feeling.  He closed his eyes again and focused on the odd feeling.  He sat up and moved closer to Percy’s stomach, staring at it in amazement. “It’s… it’s coming from you. From right here,” he covered the small mound that housed their child with both his hands and closed his eyes again.

Percy closed his eyes and focused inward.  He gasped. “Oh my… _it’s the baby!_ ” He half sat up. “It’s, it’s the baby’s _magic!”_

They stared into each other’s eyes, identical emotions mirrored in each.

“I can feel it,” Marcus breathed, amazed at the feeling he realized was emanating from their child. “Hecate’s Blessing is already strong with this one.” [12] He leaned down and kissed the large bump.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, relishing in the warmth emanating from their child in the cold night.

* * *

Marcus was yanked from his sleep.  He looked around, confused at what woke him until he felt something hit his chest.  Hard.

 _“N-no! Please!”_ His bedpartner’s voice sounded desperate.

“Percy?”

_“Eleos please! Stop!”_

“Percy!” Marcus grabbed one of Percy’s flailing arms. “Percy wake up!”

Percy shouted and yanked his arm away, bolting up into a seated positon.  He gasped and looked around, eyes wide in terror.

“Percy?” Marcus tried again.  Percy flinched and shied away from him.  His chest constricted. “Perce?”

Percy blinked and swallowed. “M-Marcus?” he whispered.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Marcus replied, not sure what to do. “I’m right here.”

 _“Marcus.”_ Percy suddenly threw himself into the older man’s arms. _“Marcus.”_

Marcus held the shaking body and lay down, rubbing calming circles on the frightened man’s back. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It was just a nightmare, I’ve got you.”

“It was horrible,” Percy chocked out. “There was so much _pain_.”

Marcus pressed a kiss to Percy’s head. “It’s alright now, I’m right here.”

“I…” Percy took a steadying breath. “I _tried_ … I did. I _tried_ to stop him. I swear.”

“Shh,” Marcus held Percy close as the man wept. “I know you did.”

“I-I begged him… I _begged_. But he just wouldn’t stop… he wouldn’t stop…”

Marcus continued to hold Percy and whisper calmingly until the redhead stopped shaking and slipped back into sleep.  It was still dark out and a glance at the clock next to the bed showed it was only 3 o’clock in the morning.  Marcus sighed and pressed a kiss to his husband’s hair before allowing himself to drift back to sleep as well.

He had a feeling this was going to become a regular occurrence.

* * *

The next morning they were both sitting sleepily at the tiny table in their room, a simple breakfast from a nearby café sitting between them as they discussed their financial situation.  This turned out be the easiest thing they needed to consider at present.

“I’ve been getting an allowance of 300 galleons deposited into my personal account every month from the family account since I turned seventeen. Given that I was either living at home or at Hogwarts, I had very little expenses until I moved into Headquarters. Offhand, I’d say I have a bit over 10- to 11,000 galleons still in my vault. I’d have to go over my bank statements to be sure.” Marcus paused in consideration. “The deposits will no doubt stop once my family learns of our hasty marriage. My older half-brother has always wanted to find a way to cut me off completely. This time, I think father will listen.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, ducking his head.

Marcus reached over and lifted the lowered chin to look into sad blue eyes. “It’s not your fault. I volunteered to do this. I _wanted_ to do this.”

Percy offered a small smile, taking the hand under his chin and pressing it to his cheek. “Then at least allow me to thank you for that.” He pressed a light kiss to the palm.

Marcus smiled gently back. “Not sure if you’re the one who needs to be doing the thanking.”

Percy blushed and let the hand fall without letting go. “Well, I was able to save a lot of my wages by living with my parents,” he said. “I just paid a small rent and some groceries and so felt able to indulge a little when it came to buying new clothes and books. I got a raise when I was promoted to the Junior Undersecretary position.”

“Could you guess approximately-?”

“11,160 galleons.” [13]

“Uh, er… huh…” Marcus blinked at the precise number.  After sparing a thought he found he wasn’t really all that surprised that Percy would know the number off the top of his head, despite the early hour.  The former Gryffindor always did have a head for keeping on top of things like this.  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know that we’re legally married and it is typically expected, but we don’t have to-”

“I think we should,” Percy interrupted.

“Are you sure?” Marcus asked, apprehension making its way into his voice despite him trying to hide it.  He’d found, months ago, that it was beginning to become more and more difficult to hide everything he was truly feeling when conversing with the younger man. “I mean, I know it is common convention to combine vaults after marriage. But I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“You’re my husband,” Percy stated. “And you’re also… you’re also the father of my child. And if you were serious about your intention to create a family, a _real_ family, then this makes the most sense.” He stared imploringly at his husband of no more than ten hours. “Besides,” he shrugged. “I want to.” This matter of fact statement derailed any protest Marcus could have conceivably had.

Sorting out their initial financial situation was simple.  One trip to Gringotts took care of their vaults combining into a new Family Vault.  Finding a more permanent residence than a motel, however, proved much more difficult.

They were determined not to rely on what was in their vault beyond the need to furnish their new home with the basics.  While Percy had estimated that they’d be able to live comfortably for about four years solely on what they had, neither were keen to attempt to do so.  With a child on the way, and an obviously magical one at that (something that wasn’t always evident in utero), there were a lot of factors to consider.  The equipment and textbooks needed for a full seven years of schooling alone would put a noticeable dent in the sum of galleons.

They’d decided to rent a two bedroom apartment from the beginning, one of which would be the baby’s room.  It took three weeks to find what they were looking for.  After searching what felt like every moderately priced apartment complex in Magical Britain, they found one within their price range that wasn’t completely run down.  They were even permitted to renovate the place at their own expense.

Neither could say they were sorry to leave the Adder’s Fork Motel behind.  Thankfully, they were able to move in immediately.  And so, they made their way into their new home on Grey Stone Road, walking under the archway reading _Wonderland Apartments_ in fading letters, and up two flights of stairs covered in faded carpet to the third floor.  The dim light of the corridor lit up the tarnished brass on the apartment door which read 3C.  As Marcus unlocked the door, Percy watched an owl deposit a package into the magical slot on 3A’s door before turning back around and flying down the stairs again to exit out the charmed window over the building’s front door. [14]

All in all, the apartment wasn’t that bad.  The paint was peeling and very faded, the wood floor was worn and scratched, and everything was dusty, but it was structurally sound and the windows offered a good view of the street below.  Plus, it had a comfortably sized fireplace placed in the living room.

Percy nodded and removed his cloak and outer robe, setting them neatly on the floor before rolling up his sleeves. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

Percy, being better at cleaning charms, took care of clearing the dirt and dust while Marcus set to work on unshrinking the furniture they’d found in Marcus’ vault and liked.  As his mother, a particularly powerful muggleborn witch who had been Lord Flint’s second wife, had been killed in the last war, most of her personal belongings had been inherited by her only son and stored in his personal vault.  What they hadn’t been able to find in the vault, they’d purchased second hand.  They’d decided against renovating the apartment right away, wanting to focus on the baby’s room first.  They wouldn’t furnish it until after it was born, both holding to the belief that it tempted a negative outcome.

It took the whole morning, but they had the living room, master bedroom, and kitchen set up in time for lunch.  It may be a little plainer than some would like, but it suited them just fine.

– 30 –

End Chapter 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:
> 
> [11] Conversion rate for this story: $5 (or £5 if you want) per 1 galleon.
> 
> [12] As Hecate is the goddess of magic and witchcraft (among other things), it makes sense to me that they’d refer to magic itself as Hecate’s Blessing.


	9. Chapter 08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A doctor's appointment and a fight

Percy was able to schedule an appointment with a Healer four days after Christmas. They would be checking the baby’s health today. He was laying down on the examination bed, Marcus in a chair next to it when the Obstetric Healer came in.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Flint?” Healer Jones addressed Percy as she entered the room. It was still new for him to be addressed as such, but it none the less made the corner of his mouth gently lift.

“Fine, I guess,” Percy replied.

“Are you feeling any discomfort in your pelvic area yet?”

Percy took on a moderately discomforted countenance. “Erm, yes actually,” he admitted. “It’s just a dull sort of ache.”

Healer Jones nodded and waved her wand over Percy’s midsection in a flourish of movements. Different coloured lights and puffs of smoke emitted from her wand tip that made no sense to either Percy or Marcus but seemed to make perfect sense to Jones. “Mm hmm,” she nodded again. “Just as I expected. I see evidence that your magic has begun to reshape your pelvic bones in preparation for giving birth. Depending of the rate of progression, the change should be completed in about six or seven weeks. At which time the birth canal should then begin to form in the space between your scrotum and anus.” The couple, while interested in the whole process, were unsettled by the candid explanation and both trying not to show it. Judging by the look on the Healer’s face, neither succeeded. She smiled comfortingly. “Nothing to worry yourselves about. It’s all perfectly normal and your body will return to its’ original state within the first two or three months after birth. Now,” she turned back to focus on Percy’s stomach area. “How about we take a look at what your little one looks like.”

When the projection appeared, Percy and Marcus both reached out and took each other’s hand. Had Percy been able to take his eyes off the semi-transparent image of the child steadily growing inside him, he’d have seen a look of complete wonder and adoration in his husband of four weeks’ shining eyes.

“Let’s see how his heart sounds,” the healer waved her wand over the image and suddenly the room was filled with a rapid _thump-thump thump-thump_ sound.

“His?” Marcus asked.

Healer Jones smiled. “Congratulations gentlemen, you’re having a son.” When Marcus turned his focus to the man next to him he was pleased to see the heartfelt smile on Percy’s soft lips and the look of content in his eyes as he gazed at the image of their developing son.

* * *

Some days Percy couldn’t stand it.

At twenty-eight weeks along he had just entered into the third trimester of his pregnancy. The child, his _son_ , was growing rapidly and there were days that Percy was sure his once flat abdomen couldn’t get any bigger only to have that belief disproved the following week, and logically he knew it would grow larger still. His condition was now visibly obvious to even the casual observer. He could feel the stares when he went to the grocer’s and various other shops. Some carried judgement, especially when he was accompanied by Marcus, but most were simply curious. He’d started a tentative friendship with his neighbour, Harris Black. The young man was also expecting a child with his American boyfriend whom Percy could never remember the name of.

There were times he’d see someone he knew. These occurrences could go either way when it came to the other person’s reaction. Plenty of his old schoolmates were politely happy for him. So far he’d only come across one of his family members… _former_ family members. One of the twins. Fred to be exact. Despite their identical features that made even their mother hard pressed to distinguish between them, Percy had always been able to tell. It was strange to see one of the jokester Weasleys look directly at him and behave as though he wasn’t even there. All he’d ever wanted was for the twins to leave him alone. Now that they were, he found he actually missed the way they’d messed around with him.

But it wasn’t the looks, or the fake pleasantries, or even his increasing size that had him fed up. (Though that last one didn’t exactly help matters. He was beginning to feel more and more unflattering as the weeks went on.) He and Marcus had been officially married and sharing a bed for nine weeks. _Two months._ And while Marcus was affectionate – he spoke to their son every day and had no problem cuddling and kissing Percy – he was consistently resistant to engaging in anything… _more._

Percy was tiring of his reluctance, and he was slowly becoming more and more self-conscious about the changes in his body as they progressed in preparation for the approaching birth. It made him question Marcus’ sincerity about the whole ordeal, whether or not the older man was regretting his decision to claim the unwed Percy’s unborn child as his own.

It was a distinctly unpleasant speculation.

It didn’t help his mood that Marcus was so frequently out of the apartment these days, and for long hours each weekday. He’d managed to secure a position at a shop called Mercury Travel & Storage located over on Diancecht Way thanks to his specialization in crafting magic. The shop supplied everything from trunks and dressers to rucksacks and expandable tents. Percy was happy for his husband. Marcus greatly enjoyed the work and, after his probationary period was over, he’d get a salary increase. But despite his wanting to be closer to the man who married him, there was a growing distance forming between them.

It all comes to a head one day when Percy slips into an existential crisis. Along with the pregnancy hormones, he was feeling increasing emotional strain from being cooped up in the apartment alone most days. They were also barely making it by on Marcus’ probationary salary, which he was expected to be on for at least another two more months. Against their original plans, they found they were needing to dip into their savings more often than they liked. It had been a particularly taxing day on Percy. He’d gone over their weekly finances and noted what food stuffs they were in need of and he couldn’t get comfortable enough to rest properly when he tried to lay down. He was exhausted and lonely, and Marcus had come home distracted and tired as well, and the strings that had been holding him together all these months began to snap. It all resulted in the couple’s first fight.

_“You’re_ off having a _grand_ old time,” Percy ranted as he paced in front of the couch his husband had planted himself on. “And I’m _stuck_ here day in and day out-”

“It’s not like I’m tossing one back at the pub with my mates,” Marcus argued, irritated. “I’m _working_ Percy.”

“Oh, so just because _you_ have a job, that means _I’m_ expected sit around the house with nothing to do besides iron your shirts like a good little housewife,” Percy sneered. “There’s only so many times I can clear off the dust before the veneer on the tables start wearing off.”

Marcus cursed under his breath. “Of course not,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, nothing is stopping you from finding a job on your own.”

_“Nothing?_ Are you serious?” Percy looked at his husband in disbelief. “Bloody _look_ at me Marcus. I’m in no condition to start a new job. And even if someone did hire me, I’d have two months, _maybe,_ before I’d have to take maternity leave. I’m not exactly employable material right now.”

Marcus had the grace to look chastened at the reminder. “I know.” He stood and approached the angry redhead. He tried to pull Percy into a hug but Percy was in no mood for pleasantries at the moment and pulled away in a snit. Marcus cursed again. “Damn it all to Hades, Perce, why must you keep doing that? Why can’t you just trust me?”

“What are you on about now?” Percy asked confusedly. “Of course I trust you. Why are you changing the subject?”

“Sure, you trust me,” Marcus bit out sarcastically. “You won’t let me even put my arms around you anymore. Hell, I can’t even put a hand on your arm lately without you getting angry and defensive!”

Percy was stunned. “What the bloody hell are you talking about!?”

Marcus sighed. “I just wish you would let me in. I just want to help you.”

“Wait, is this about the fact that I was raped?” Percy held up his hand. “Is _that_ why you keep pulling away from me when we start becoming anywhere near intimate?”

“I understand, Perce,” Marcus placated. “It was an incredibly traumatic experien-”

“What? Are you suddenly repulsed by it? By _me?”_

_“What?”_

“Have you suddenly realized that I’m nothing but a tainted whore that you’ve been trapped by?” Percy began to tear up as all his insecurities took hold.

“What the hel- _No._ Of course not!” For his part, Marcus was aghast at the suggestion.

“Percy, I love you, damn it!”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t insist on treating me like a pariah!” Percy yelled.

“When have I ever-”

Percy scoffed. “Oh, here we go. Now I’m completely crazy.”

“That’s not what I said,” Marcus glared. “I never even implied that.”

“Oh please, everyone is thinking it,” Percy choked, defeated. “I’m just the whore with a bastard child that you got saddled with because you stupidly felt sorry for me.” He pushed passed Marcus and retreated as quickly as he could into the bedroom.

“Damn it, Percy. It’s not like that!” Marcus fumed as Percy slammed the bedroom door. “Well screw this,” he said as he grabbed his cloak and walked out.

The front door slammed shut and Percy collapsed onto the bed in tears.

– 30 –  
End Chapter 08


	10. Chapter 09

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus comes back and the two come to a much needed conclusion. Well, a couple conclusions, but one is very important... and so is the other.

Marcus groaned as he stared blearily up at the ceiling.  He’d taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night, finding himself unable to return to the apartment and face his agitated spouse.  He’d tossed and turned all night, unable to fall asleep without the comforting presence of the redhead he’d fallen in love with without realizing he was actually falling in love until it hit him, quite forcefully, in the centre of his forehead.  He sat up, triggering the oil lamp next to the bed to light itself, and rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes.  He felt drunk despite not having imbibed more than a half a pint.  He dressed as quickly as he could, stamping his feet to get his work boots on, and checked out of the Inn.  There was still a bit of a chill in the air, it being late February.  A light drizzle started a short ways from the apartment building.  He picked up the pace and dropped his keys as he rushed to open the outer door, his hand shaking a bit from the chill, or his exhaustion, or just the thought of seeing Percy again after their fight.  He wondered how the younger man’s night had been.  Worried at how upset he might’ve been.  Cursed himself for not returning sooner.

He entered the apartment, anxiety slowly beginning to take over.  Percy was standing there, next to the little dining room table, his hair standing up every which way as though he’d just gotten out of bed.  He shut the door and took a step forward. “Perce, I-”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off when Percy rushed to him and pressed a kiss to his lips.  He wrapped his arms around his husband and pulled him as close as the bump that contained their son would allow, deepening the kiss.  They kissed until they were breathless.  Marcus trailed kisses along Percy’s jaw, on his earlobe, nibbled at his neck. _“Marcus,”_ Percy breathed, tilting his head back to give him easier access and tangling his fingers in Marcus’ hair, shivering at the feel of the stubble from his husband’s unshaven jaw scratching along his skin.  He pulled Marcus back to his lips, lightly biting the man’s bottom lip.  He pulled back and rested their foreheads together, enjoying the feeling of togetherness building from the simple act, letting the isolated feeling that had been building begin to slip away.

Marcus spoke softly, almost pleadingly, “You know it wasn’t me.”

“Of course I know that,” Percy huffed.

“Then why don’t you seem to trust me when all I want to do is hold you? I would never hurt you and I’m _not_ going try pressure you into anything.”

The corner of Percy’s mouth quirked up in a sad grin. “I know that,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Marcus’ neck. “I _know_ that, and I trust you implicitly. But your tiptoeing around is kind of making it worse.” Marcus frowned in confusion. “Whenever we’ve gotten close to actually expressing _any_ form of physical intimacy you pull away- no, let me finish.” Marcus closed his mouth and let Percy continue. “I’ve been having nightmares about it for _months_ ,” he said, eyes focused on his husband’s chest. “At least once every week since it happened.” He paused and swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, pulling back a bit so just his fingers brushed the hair on the base of Marcus’ neck, and raising his gaze to meet Marcus’ dark grey gaze. “When I found out that it was real, it hurt. Especially since they were Polyjuiced into _you_.

“But I’ve been facing it in my nightmares since it happened. I want to move past it. I realize you probably think I need more time to process it in order to move on, but I’m telling you, I’m fine.” He moved his hands so that his thumbs were brushing along Marcus’ cheeks. “I’m not perfect, and realistically I’m going to have more nightmares for a while. And I know I’m going to need a lot more time before I am comfortable even trying to be _fully_ intimate – and I can assure you that would be true with _anyone_ , not just you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want or need you near me.” Percy’s voice turned more forceful and his tone became insistent. “And I am so bloody tired of crying _all the fucking time_!” Marcus’s eyes widened slightly. “I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling like a fucking victim. _Every. Day._ ” Percy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I'm trying to move on, but the way you treat me… like I'm some… fragile piece of glass. Like I'd break if you so much as handled me. Well, I'm tired of it! Marcus, I'm _tired_ of it.”

Marcus looked away and shook his head helplessly. “I don't know what else to do,” he admitted.

“Put your hands on me.”

Marcus looked up, startled and confused.

“Marcus,” Percy said with patient impatience. “You're my husband. Kiss me like you damn well mean it.”

Marcus looked appraisingly into the fiery redhead’s heated blue eyes, seeing the challenge in them before nodding. “Alright, then.” He pulled Percy back into his arms and kissed him again, an air of almost desperate heat flaring between them.  He kissed Percy like it was the one thing he needed to live in this world.  More than food, water, air.

Percy slid his hands up under Marcus’ cloak and he shoved the garment off his husband’s shoulders so that it bunched up around the man’s elbows.  Marcus responded by fully removing the cloak and tossing it aside, both men ignoring how it fell in a messy heap on the floor.  He gathered his pregnant husband into his arms, pulling him as close as this advancing form would allow and kissing him feverishly.  He carefully led Percy to the bedroom, exchanging heated kisses the entire way, where he then guided the man to lay against the pillows on the bed.  Sliding next to the only man of his desires, he held the side of Percy’s face, thumb caressing his jaw, and pressed a tender kiss to the man’s soft, pink lips.  When he pulled away, Percy followed in an effort to recapture his mouth and pulled back farther, teasingly, before acquiescing with a grin.

Percy shivered with anticipation as he felt the heat of Marcus’ hands sliding along his skin through the fabric of his shirt.  The touch was reverent.  At times soft and gentle, but always with purpose and confidence, and never with hesitation. 

Marcus moved down Percy’s body until he was directly facing the large mound that housed their child.  He lifted the shirt that covered it – one of his old Quidditch jerseys, he finally noticed – and placed his hands on either side, directly to Percy’s skin, and rested his forehead directly over the child inside.  ”My son,” he sighed with a smile before pressing a firm kiss to the taut flesh.

“Yes,” Percy affirmed, his voice full of emotion. “Yours.”  He was extremely touched at the absolute certainty in his husband’s tone.  Marcus crawled back up until they were face to face, placing a hand over where their child stretched and turned inside his husband, who laced their fingers together so that both their palms rested over the still developing foetus.  Suddenly, it was as if all these weeks and months of emotional upheaval, both hidden and obvious, didn’t matter anymore.  And any residual dark feelings from remembering that horrible night so many months ago were banished, once again, for the time being.  Right now, in this moment, they were both content and secure in each other’s arms.

Marcus spent the rest of the morning worshipping his husband’s gravid body, massaging his muscles, and caressing his skin.  Making sure to lavish him with all the love and affection he’d inadvertently starved him of.

* * *

Percy lounged on the small couch in the living room, wincing every so often when the baby gave a particularly hard kick.  The stretched skin on his rotund stomach sported a couple of bruises from the baby’s sometimes harsh movements.  While he wasn’t strictly on bed rest, he was still very limited in what he was able to do.  The baby was now due in less than four weeks and he felt as bit as their whole apartment complex.  Realistically, he could go into labour any time.  He was adjusting his position when the book he’d been reading before his son interrupted slid off the green patterned couch and onto the floor. “Bugger,” Percy swore.  He’d never be able to maneuver himself to reach it with his limited mobility.  He sighed and stared at the book as though it was entirely to blame for his current predicament.

Just as he felt like he was about to cry – something he never ceased to be irritated with – the door opened and his husband finally strolled in.  Percy watched, relieved, as he hung up his cloak and leather work robe, and kicked off his muddy dragon hide boots.

“Hello, love,” Marcus greeted, giving Percy a kiss before picking up the book on the floor and taking a seat on the couch.  He banished the sawdust that still clung to his shirt.

“Hello,” Percy smiled, taking his book back.  He winced again, also gasping this time. “Looks like someone else is happy you’re back as well,” he cringed a bit.

“You okay?”

“Yes, he just hit a tender spot,” Percy assured.

Marcus gently placed a hand on Percy’s stomach, “Hey there, Little One,” he spoke to the baby. “You need to calm down in there. It’s a little too soon for Quidditch tryouts.”

Percy sighed as the baby calmed down and smiled. “Baby loves the sound of your voice. He always calms down when you talk.” He rubbed his aching belly and groaned.

“Lift you shirt,” Marcus said as he summoned the large jar of medicated ointment.  He kissed the mound before gently massaged the ointment into Percy’s skin, taking special care with the larger bruise where their child seemed to be focusing on.

“You know, I think it’s about time we start thinking of names,” Percy said, enjoying the feeling of his husband’s calloused hands on his bare skin.

“I suppose we can’t just keep calling him ‘Little One’ and ‘Baby’ for the rest of his life,” Marcus grinned.

“Depends on whether you want him to actually speak to us when he’s older.”

Marcus chuckled before considering the subject seriously. “I like the name Michael.”

“Hmm, Michael,” Percy tried out the name. “Michael Flint. I like it. Are we going to give the baby a middle name? We could call him Tristan, after you.”

Marcus finished with the ointment and used a cleansing spell on his hands. “What about naming him after you?” he offered.

“Michael Ignatius?” Percy snorted. “I like Michael Tristan much better. Michael Ignatius sounds pompous.” Marcus sniggered. “Shut it,” Percy said with a laugh.

“Michael Tristan it is then,” Marcus grinned.

-30-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Note:**
> 
> I realize that I’ve taken a very long time to get to this chapter, and have felt guilty about that, but I’ve come to realized that the time away has been a good thing.
> 
> I’d written a very rough version of a scene for this chapter that I had originally wanted to play out, but something about it just wasn’t sitting right with me so I put it away again. After taking a breather and coming back to it with fresh eyes, I was able to clearly see what it was that was bothering me so much and, I believe, changed it for the better. The original versions of this were very smut based and, when I stood back and truly considered character development, I felt that it would be an injustice to the story I had been telling to have them suddenly rush into bed with each other after only just (finally) getting on the same page about where Percy’s headspace is at.
> 
> It’s a serious topic and I felt the need to treat it with as much respect as I could instead of devolving into my own smutty romanticized fantasies. And so, I focused more on their journey and less on the end of that particular road. I hope the end result is not a disappointment.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron has some thoughts.

Ron wasn’t stupid.  He was rather thick-headed and stubborn most of the time, but he was not, in fact, stupid.  He was a strategist.  When he put his mind to it, he could actually work out problems in ways that others wouldn’t think about or consider.

It was also true that his belief system was, like every other person, shaped by what his parents taught him and supplemented by personal experience.  There were many things that, as a pureblood wizard, he grew up to believe was true.  Things concerning the control and regulation of magical creatures – house elves were servants.  It was what they did and they didn’t aspire to anything else; muggles were strange beings that could sometimes be interesting, but couldn’t achieve the same level of greatness that wizards and witches could with magic – his father had always been fascinated by them and collected muggle trinkets, but nothing they did made much sense (he was actually horrified when Hermione had gone into detail about what her parents did as dentists.  And she’d called wizard’s chess barbaric!); and rules regarding certain social propriety.

His recent (and short) relationship with Lavender Brown had had some physical aspects.  They could frequently be found snogging around the castle after all.  Despite this, their relations had never become truly sexual.  There had been a fair bit of touching and groping, but, as both of them were purebloods, they’d never even attempted to engage in intercourse.  They’d both grown up with the threat of being ostracised from their families should they bring shame upon themselves by producing a child out of wedlock – or face the prospect of having no other choice but to marry to prevent a complete scandal.

None of his siblings were willing to risk it either… at least, that was what he’d always believed.  He believed it right up until he received a letter from Bill two weeks prior to the start of the Christmas holidays.  It was worded delicately, but there was no mistaking its meaning.  Percy, the most perfect perfectionist to ever perfect, the one who followed the rules as though they controlled how much air you were permitted to breathe each day, who would never even accidentally dream about putting a single toe out of line if he could help it, had disgraced himself and brought shame to the family name.  It was all hush-hush at the moment, but their parents were deeply disappointed and the family was completely embarrassed.

Ron had pulled his two best friends and sister aside to explain the situation.  Ginny had immediately declared that she would disown Percy as her brother on her magic and proceeded to denounce his entire character.  When Hermione told her she needed to be more sensible about the matter she had stormed out of the Room of Requirement.

“I hope she didn’t mean that about disowning Percy,” Hermione said as she looked back to the boys. “It could have some serious ramifications for her in the future.”

“Why?” Harry asked, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sure she’d change her mind, once she had enough time to cool off.”

Ron frowned back at his best friend in equal confusion. “It would be an oath on her magic, Harry. That’s irreversible.”

“It’s appalling is what it is,” Hermione stated crossly. “It’s a completely stupid reason to meddle in such a serious branch of magic on a whim.”

“What would an oath like that even mean?” Harry asked.

“It would be a magically binding contract that would make it so that she and Percy would legally no longer be considered family.  Even if she were to change her mind later on, if she invokes the oath and later tries to reverse it she could lose her magic.” Hermione huffed. “It’s a completely overdramatic reaction to this situation.”

“Is it?” Ron asked, only partially convinced.

Harry looked startled.  He was silent for a time before turning to Ron. “Your parents would do this? Are they planning to?”

“Er… no, actually,” Ron rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s actually really, really rare for _anyone_ to disown a family member with a magically binding oath. I don’t even think Sirius’ parents actually did it, even if his mother had blasted him off the family portrait.”

“It _is_ overacting with this situation,” Hermione insisted. “It’s one of the most stupid reasons to ever disown someone.”

“Well, Percy shaming himself was stupid,” Ron countered.

“What’s so wrong about Percy knocking some girl up anyway?” Harry asked naively.  Both Hermione and Ron paused and just stared at their friend in affectionate exasperation. “What?”

Hermione face palmed and sighed, “Oh, Harry…”

Ron shook his head. “You can be a real nit sometimes, mate.”  And so the two sat their confused friend down and explained the finer points of wizarding reproduction…  Well, Hermione did.  Ron just blushed and pretended he wasn’t there.

In the following weeks and months, Ron found himself doing a lot of thinking.  Hermione and Harry had stepped in as witnesses for Percy and Flint’s hasty marriage.  He hadn’t known what to think about that at the time.  Hermione had explained that while many muggles shared wizard opinions on children born outside of marriage, opinions were changing on the matter.

His strategist mind just couldn’t let the whole subject drop.  He couldn’t understand how Percy, of all people, would allow himself to be put in a position that would risk the career he’d spent his whole life striving for.  Even for love.

Unlike many others, he didn’t find it difficult to believe that his brother and the former Slytherin could feel love for one another.  He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind.  That was one thing about growing up in such a large family – particularly one in which you had to keep looking out for what Fred and George were up to.  He could get overlooked in a room.  He may have the emotional range of a teaspoon, as Hermione once put it, but he paid attention to the people around him and could gauge what _they_ were feeling.  Even if he didn’t have a habit of responding to those feelings accordingly.  When he was home at the same time they were, he’d seen the way the two looked at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.  He’d always known the _potential_ for love was there from observing mutual attraction.  But it had been unresolved.

Could Percy have loved Flint enough to risk it at the first confirmation of his attraction being returned?

“I was thinking we’d quickly pop into Honeydukes before heading back,” Hermione said as the group of friends was walking through the village of Hogsmead after leaving The Three Broomsticks where they’d had lunch.  Harry, Ron, and Hermione had met up there with Luna and Neville.  Ginny was on a date, much to Ron’s annoyance.

“Good idea,” Ron agreed. “My stash of choc-” A commotion on the end of the street drew their attention.  They heard yelling and, curious, rushed to see what was going on.

“You’re a worthless excuse for a human being!” one person spat at another.  Ron slid to a stop and saw… _Percy??_

The person who’d shouted threw an acid-yellow spell at Flint, who stood slightly in front of a heavily pregnant Percy.  The man quickly threw up a shield and fired a stunner back but his opponent dodged to the side and the stunner hit a barrel.  People scrambled out of the way, giving the two a wide berth.

“You know, you wouldn’t have that little brat if it weren’t for _me_ ,” they shot in Percy’s direction as they sent another spell at Flint, who managed to dodge just in time.  It whizzed past him and shattered a glass window. “I can just as easily take it away!” The person aimed their wand at Percy instead.

Suddenly, Ron found himself standing over the horrid person, who was laying on the ground, knocked out cold.  He was breathing heavily, his knuckles felt slightly bruised, and everyone was looking at him shocked.  Percy looked like he was close to tears.  He took a breath and tried to say something to his older brother but nothing came out.  He didn’t know what to say.  Percy seemed to understand.  He looked at Ron with a tiny, slightly sad, smile.  Percy then clutched his stomach and lurched forward.  The only thing that stopped him from hitting the ground was his husband’s arms around him. _“Percy!”_

He was rushed up to the castle and to Madame Pomfrey.  Aurors came and took away their attacker and the students made their way back to the school.  On the way, Ron finally asked what had happened.  He couldn’t remember.  Harry told him he’d knocked his brother’s attacker out with one swing.

As he walked back to the castle, where his brother had been rushed, he ran what he could remember through his brain.  He remembered the person’s words…

And then, all at once, he got it.

– 30 –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked having it be Ron who finally sees the truth, or at least figures out part of it all. I don't know why, but I felt like it was important.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 years later...

**4 Years Later:**

A child’s laughter filled the air, along with the patter of small feet on the floor.

“Hi sweetheart,” Marcus smiled and picked up the tiny terror.  The very naked tiny terror. “You running from Mummy after your bath again?”

Percy entered with a towel in his hands, eyes scanning the room.  His eyes fell on the two sitting on the couch and smiled. “There you are,” he said, shaking his head.  He walked forward and scooped up the child in the towel. “You, little girl, are going to drive me absolutely mad.”  She giggled. “Oh, think that’s funny, do you? Well, laugh all you like, it’s still time to get ready for bed.”

He carried the two-year-old little girl into her room and finished drying her off before dressing her in her sleeping clothes.  He sat on the rocking chair in the room and read her a story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard and smiled when her dark grey eyes began to droop.  As he lay her down in her cradle, he gently brushed her red hair with his hand.  He ran his hand along the skillfully crafted wooden frame wistfully and sighed.  Marcus had crafted it himself four years previously as a surprise.  The detail work in the dark stained wood was simply beautiful.  He’d teared up the first time he’d laid eyes on it.

“She go down easy tonight?”

Percy turned as his husband entered the small room. “Yes. She had quite a busy day today with her Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione.”

“Out of all your siblings, I would’ve never thought that _Ron_ would be the one to reach out,” Marcus mused as he sidled up beside Percy to peer down at their daughter.

“It doesn’t surprise me, really,” Percy admitted. “Despite what anyone thinks, he’s the most like me in personality. We always got along when he was growing up and I was the one to teach him how to play chess.” Marcus wrapped an arm around Percy’s waist and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the man’s temple. “Now, what story did this little man insist on tonight?” Percy asked as he turned to the sleeping little boy whose head rested on Marcus’ shoulder.

“That would be the riveting tale of the day his Mummy eventfully brought him into this world in the magical castle of Hogwarts.”

Percy huffed but smiled none the less. “My little Prince.”  They tucked Michael into the little bed that sat across the little room from the cradle and left their children to sleep, making sure the nightlights were on.  The little orbs floated and bobbed lazily about the room.

Michael, as it turned out, had been born three weeks early in the hospital wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  They had decided to take a relaxing trip to Hogsmead for lunch that Saturday and had been confronted by someone they least expected.  Even more unexpected was Percy’s baby brother, Ron, acting as his champion and standing up for him the way he had.  In the excitement, Percy had gone into labour and was rushed up to the castle, with the help of one of the professors who had been walking through the village as a chaperone for the students, instead of attempting to floo or portkey to St. Mungo’s.  And when the child had finally be placed in his parents arms, Percy breathed a sigh of relief at the dark hair and features that clearly mirrored his husband’s.  His son didn’t look like…

Percy shook his head and pushed the dark thoughts away for the time being.  There would be time enough for that.  Right now, he had something important he wished to discuss.  They finished tidying up the little apartment they’d called home for over four and a half years. “It really is small in here, isn’t it?” Percy asked as they flopped onto the old, worn couch.

“Yeah. I keep thinking that when I realize how big the kids are getting. Sabrina’s big enough for a real bed now and doesn’t need the cradle anymore.”  Percy hummed in response.  “They should be able to share for a while yet, though.”

“Yes, but it’s going to be quite cramped in there with two beds _and_ the cradle,” Percy pointed out as he snuggled into Marcus’ side.

“Yeah, I kno- wait, what?” It dawned on him what his husband had just said.  He stared at him in surprise. “R-really?”

Percy smirked. “I’m sure you remember that twins run in my family, right?”  He got up from the couch, smirk still plastered to his face.   The publishing editor left his gobsmacked husband sitting on the couch as he readied himself for bed.

“We’re going to need a bigger apartment,” Marcus said to the empty living room.

* * *

Penelope Clearwater was a sensible young woman.

She’d been in the top 5 of her class in Hogwarts.  Never getting lower than an Exceeds Expectations in any class her entire school career.  She’d worked hard and made Prefect in fifth year.  For her seventh year, she’d been appointed the position of Head Girl and her boyfriend, Percy Weasley, the Head Boy.

And then they’d graduated and she was on track to becoming a medi-witch while Percy secured a position in the Ministry in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.  Their relationship began suffering under the strain of their training and he had suggested they take a break from their relationship, but she believed in them so they’d soldiered on.  When he was promoted to the position of personal assistant to the Head of the Department, she was so proud of him.   He was working so hard and he was so patient and understanding when she broke dates with him due to her schedule.  She was equally understanding when he began to take on more of his boss’ responsibilities.  He suggested, again, that maybe they were due for some time apart, but there would be time enough later, when she’d finished her residency and become a fully-fledged medi-witch, when he was more settled into his own career, for them to reconnect better and settle down together.  So they kept at it.

Quite suddenly, Percy got into trouble over dealings with his boss and his future became a little less certain.  He became less certain about himself.  He was certain that she could find someone else, someone who could better make her happy, but she stuck by him.  She had faith.  And when he was offered the position of Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic and everything began to look up again.  She could see it.  Their future together.

They’d get married and buy a house together.  After a few years they’d have a couple of children.  A boy and a girl.  And they would both grow to be so smart and successful.  It would be perfect.

Then he’d dropped a house on her.  He’d been considering his life and where he wanted it to go and was more certain than ever that their paths just didn’t line up.  They had been drifting apart since they’d graduated from Hogwarts and they barely knew each other anymore.  They couldn’t make each other truly happy.  It was time to put an end to it before they began to hate each other.  Her dreams of a perfectly beautiful home and perfect, smiling, intelligent children were gone.  He didn’t love her anymore.  It had hurt, but she had to let him go.  And she was fine with it.  Really, she was.

Until she wasn’t.  Until the day she’d been recruited to the Order of the Phoenix and had begun spending time at the Burrow.  Until _he_ waltz in as though he belonged and spoke to her wonderful, intelligent, hardworking Percy as though they were friends.  Until he made her Percy smile…

Over the next year, on the occasions she was able to make it to the Burrow, she saw that smile become brighter and brighter.  As the months wore on, she saw the twinkle her Percy would get in his eyes when _he_ entered the room.  Worse, she saw the same twinkle returned in _his_ eyes.  She was losing Percy.  She had been attempting to subtly rekindle their wayward romance to no avail, and it wasn’t hard to see whose fault that was.  If only _he_ would stop being able to make her Percy smile so much…

The plan had been unbelievably simple.  Her talent in potion brewing made her a prime choice for St. Mungo’s once she’d finished her necessary training and started her residency.  If things continued, she would be guaranteed an entry position in their Department of Healer Research and Cure Development.  Brewing a polyjuice potion was easy for her.  It was one of the potions she sometimes supplied for the Order, in addition to the usual medical potions and salves.  Even getting the hair had been simple.  She took turns at helping with the communal laundry every week and had ensured that, on one of those days, she was the one to gather the bedding in their room.  The other potion was so simple a third year could brew it.  It would keep Percy sluggish but it wouldn’t render him unconscious.  What good would it do if he wasn’t even aware of what happened?

She had to wait until Percy’s two older brothers, Oliver, _and_ the interloper were away before she could implement her plan.  If anyone were to chance upon them before it was done it would ruin everything.  Finally, in early August, she had her chance.  Slipping the drugging potion into a goblet and slipping it to Percy without anyone seeing it was easy given that Mad Eye wasn’t there that night.  No one payed attention to her as she served Percy his dinner.  It wasn’t uncommon for her to be handing people food and drink.  He was even so groggy that night that he hadn’t looked up from the table before taking a drink.  She cleaned up after him when he’d stumbled up the stairs to bed.  She waited to follow him up, taking care to not make it looks suspicious, and changed into a loose robe before drinking the polyjuice.  She’d gagged at the taste.  She hated rhubarb, believing a person may as well be eating grass with the disgusting plant flavour.

Every day she was fortunate enough to see him, she couldn’t help but look at Percy and marvel at him.  He was an attractive man.  Their children would be beautiful _and_ smart.  In his room, she could barely make out his shape on the bed.  She admired the feel of his warm skin under her hands.  They’d never gotten this far when they were together.  He never felt it was the right time.  He respected her too much.  He wasn’t in the mood.  But tonight, finally… _finally_ … he was hers.  And she would have all of him. She sneered at the sweater he wore, knowing by the feel of it that it was an old Quidditch jersey, _his_ old jersey.  Percy liked to sleep in them and she’d placed a hand on his arm or shoulder enough to recognize the feel of the fabric under her hand.  She pulled it off him and tossed it aside in disgust.  _He_ would not interfere here.  Not now.  Not tonight.  Tonight, her darling Percy was hers.  He’d love her when this was all over, she was sure of it.

She turned him over, a shiver passing through her at his stuttered and timid _‘please’_.  He was nervous.  He’d never done this before, it seemed.  “It’ll be alright, Perce,” she reassured him. “Everything will be just fine.”

He felt… _extraordinary_.  It felt like how she’d always dreamed it would.  Perfect.  Regretfully, she’d had to ensure he’d kept quiet.  It wouldn’t do to have anyone downstairs become curious enough to interrupt their time together.  It was bliss.

When she was done, she pressed a loving kiss to the center of his back. “You’re perfect, Perce,” she murmured into his ear before getting up and throwing the robe back on.  She retreated to her room, which would be empty until tomorrow, until the polyjuice potion wore off.

But it didn’t change anything.

She fumed.  If anything, it had brought the two closer together.  Her perfect, loving Percy became more withdrawn as the weeks wore on.  The only time he really looked like he was happy was when _he_ came back from his missions.  She would have to come up with a better plan.  She needed to think.

Come the winter, her workload at the hospital doubled and it was a few months before she was able to return the Burrow.  But she was nearly finished formulating a new plan to win her Percy back.  She just needed to speak with him to implement the first phase.  She was all smiles when she finally entered the Burrow just prior to the New Year.

And her world shattered to tiny little pieces.

Her darling Percy and that _brute_ were married.  They had been married for nearly a whole month, and they were expecting a child.  _A child_.  A child…  She thought about it.  It wasn’t _his_ child… it was _hers_.  Glee spread through her body.  Her dear, sweet Percy was carrying _her_ child!  She was so happy.  Until…

One day, in late-April, she was to lunch at a little café in Hogsmead with a friend.  It was a nice spring day, a Hogsmead weekend for the upper years at Hogwarts.  She was walking through the village after saying goodbye to her friend when she saw them.  Percy, practically glowing and heavy with their child, walking hand-in-hand with _him_.  Looking at _him_ with a love and adoration that she had never shown _her_.  No matter how devoted she was.  No matter how understanding, how supportive…  He’d _never_ looked at her like he was now looking at _him_.

She couldn’t help it.  It wasn’t fair.  He was _hers_ and hers alone.  _That… that…_ “You!” she shouted at him.  “You slimy, thieving _viper_!”

“Penelope?” Percy stared at her in shock.

“Oh, Percy,” she looked at him sadly. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright. You’ll see.”  She turned back to _him_. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she hissed and drew her wand.  They’ll see.  They’ll all see.

“What in Hades do you think you’re up to, Clearwater?” the Snake asked with a snarl.

“You filthy boyfriend stealer,” she spat at him. “You don’t deserve my precious Percy. You’re nothing.”  He glared at her as he slipped in front of Percy, blocking him from her view.  They exchanged curses. “You’re a worthless excuse for a human being!” He barely dodged her last curse. “You know, you wouldn’t have that little brat if it weren’t for _me_?” _This_ is what Percy had left her for?  _This_ is what he’d chosen over her?  _Her?_   How dare he?  She turned from her original target and fixed her eyes on him instead. “I can just as easily take it away.”  She took aim, the perfect curse to rid her former boyfriend, the man she’d planned her future with, of the precious gift she’d given him.

Pain radiated through her temple and her vision faded to black.

* * *

It had been nineteen years since the final fall of the Dark Lord known as Voldemort.  The fifth of Marcus and Percy’s seven children was starting Hogwarts this year along with his cousins Rose and Albus.  Michael and Sabrina had both graduated, the Flint twins were in their sixth year, and Albus’ older brother, James, was starting his third year.

Following her brother’s lead, Ginny had also mended the bridge between herself and Percy.  She’d apologised profusely for believing the worst of him after Ron had explained what he’d discovered.  He’d forgiven her immediately and she had enjoyed being an aunt to all of her nieces and nephews over the years.

It had taken a long time and a considerable amount of humility for Charlie to come around and beg forgiveness.  While it was difficult for Percy, he’d always looked up to his older brothers and their reactions had stung, they had begun patching their relationship.  It was still a work in progress, but it was progressing.  Bill, Fred, and George remained at odds with him.  He wasn’t sure if it was pride that kept them away or shame.  He was happy, none the less, that all of them had survived the Battle of Hogwarts.  It had been an extremely close shave for Fred.  He’d just barely managed to dodge a Killing Curse.  Neither Percy nor Marcus had participated in the battle.  Michael had been only two weeks old and they had only just been able to bring him home from the hospital when Voldemort’s forces had attacked the castle.

Percy still held out hope that his parents would forgive him.  Neither he nor Marcus had been in the wrong, but he still felt guilty.

As for Penelope, after her arrest she’d been transferred to the psych ward of St. Mungo’s.  It was determined that she had an unhealthy and violent obsession with Percy as well as displaying an intense level of jealousy.  She was usually heard ranting one moment about how she was going to make Marcus regret taking her Percy from her and that they’d be sorry, and shrieking the next that she knew how they felt for each other and that she’d make sure that nothing ever came of it.  She also made frequent claims that she was either pregnant with Percy’s child or honestly believed she was Michael’s mother, despite all test results that proved that both were consistently false.

Percy stood on the platform with his husband and their two youngest children, waving to his middle three as the train pulled away from the station.  Beside him, Ron was grumbling about how it would be just his luck that Rose would wind up friends with, or even dating, the Malfoy heir.  He shook his head in amusement. “Slytherins aren’t all that bad, Brother,” he offered and smirked as Ron sputtered, blushing all the way up to his ears.  Hermione laughed heartily at her husband’s expense.

– 30 –

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was Penelope. Are you surprised? I know a lot of you were convinced it was Oliver, but it was always intended to be Penelope. I think I did make the idea of it being Oliver quite convincing, though. In case you were wondering, his calculating looks aimed at Marcus were him coming to his own conclusions about the paternity of Percy’s child. He had concluded, based on Marcus’ outward reaction to the news, that Marcus was the father. So, did I succeed in making her an obsessed, stalker-ish ex-girlfriend? Creepy and warped, right? I don’t know why, but I really, really loved the idea that, of all his siblings, it was Ron who looked past everything and discovered the truth. I left Percy’s relationship with his family bittersweet.


End file.
